


Diagnosis

by DarkWoods



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Biracial characters, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dissociation, Emotional Abuse, GOM learning to support each other, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I just directly tagged everyone who's relevant but others will appear, Minor Character Death, More of that platonic goodness 2k18, Neurodiversity, Past Child Abuse, Post-Winter Cup, Slow Build, Someone help these kids, This probably isn't as intense as it sounds, Unreliable Narrator, buckle up this is going to be rough, fight me to the death for this, low-key tho, not kuroko, one instance with kuroko, will put warnings each chapter and update tags as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 73,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkWoods/pseuds/DarkWoods
Summary: “God Tetsuya, why are you like this?”He knows it’s a rhetorical question said with exasperation and fondness, but he still spares a second to seriously consider an answer. And after a brief moment of contemplation, he comes to a conclusion,‘I have a deeply rooted fear of dependency because I’ve been taught that most comforts are temporary – a mindset which has been reinforced by my time in Teiko.’But instead of sharing this insight he shrugs; a gesture which goes unseen.Or,The death of his grandmother sparks a series of life-altering events. Tetsuya has to hit the bottom before he allows anyone to pull him back to the surface.





	1. Rigor Mortis

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my lord, this fic is going to be a doozy! This is my second muti-chapter story ever and the first in years so please be patient with my sporadic updates! I’m going to try to get each chapter to 5K as well so you have a bit of something the chew on as I take my time. I like to stay one chapter ahead at a time so if I take too long I have something to give.
> 
> Anyways **warnings** , this story does feature abuse but it’s not going to be over the top, or the main focus of this story aside from mentions of past abuse and how it’s effecting the present, and the physical abuse doesn’t apply to kuroko for most of the story, I’ll give a heads up for triggers on the appropriate chapters.
> 
> Warning: Descriptions of a corpse

  _“Rigor Mortis is the stiffening of the body after death because of a loss of Adenosine Triphosphate (ATP) from the body's muscles. ATP is the substance that allows energy to flow to the muscles and help them work and without this the muscles become stiff and inflexible.”_   [Exploreforensics](http://www.exploreforensics.co.uk/rigor-mortis-and-lividity.html)

* * *

 

In the beginning, he was stuck in a haze. Thinking of a dream, living in an idea, floating in an abstract memory, lost in limbo.

He’d thought she was sleeping.

His grandmother often falls asleep while watching one of her programs so he wasn’t worried when he found her in such a position. It was a bad habit, especially for someone with joints as stiff as hers but he’s learned not to fret and let her rest when she could get it. So he carried on with his post-practice routine without a hitch and he’d just retreated to his room to finish his homework for the evening. It wasn’t hard work, just tedious. She was still peacefully sleeping when he’d returned to her side, so he’d simply smiled fondly at the sight of Nigou curled up by her feet. Quietly, he fetched one of the hand-knit quilts they’d kept in the closet, and carefully draped it over her prone form.

He always admired her in a way he’d never been able to admire his parents. He’s probably learned more from her than anyone else. She was kind, selfless and always made time for him. He felt a deep respect for her unbreakable will, her ability to persevere and to love unconditionally despite everything. In the soft, quiet moments like then he could feel his heart ache under the strain of bearing all these emotions he didn’t know what to do with. He let the warmth of these not-quite identifiable feelings warm his core like blood in his veins as he lowered the volume of the television to a soft murmur, then after deciding to forgo the tea he’d planned to prepare for the two of them, turned in for the night himself. Usually when she fell asleep on the couch, she’d wake up after an hour or two, and if it were late enough go bed on her own.

 

 

The first sign that something is wrong is when Nigou is the one to wake him up. Tetsuya is startled awake by the sound of him scratching at his bedroom door, only pausing to let out a pitiful whine and cautious little woofs. His glowing red alarm clock displays that it’s about just after four in the morning and had it been anything but Nigou or his grandmother at his door, he would’ve gone right back to sleep. But such anxious behaviour from his usually confident and energetic puppy is making Tetsuya himself fairly nervous. Intruders? Fire? Tetsuya silently slides out of his bed as his thoughts started to pick up speed. Is his grandmother okay?

Carefully, Kuroko eases open his door and is immediately assaulted by the dog, tail wagging joyfully at finally gaining his master’s acknowledgement and happily jaunting after Tetsuya as if the problem is solved. While the return to normality and the absence of smoke is relieving, Tetsuya knows he won’t be able to resolve the tension that had settled in his mind until he gives the house a once-over. It feels like he’s on the cusp of something, like he’s a spring being loaded and ready to shoot off at a moment’s notice. Adrenaline is turning up the volume of his heartbeat and his breath sounds as loud as a ventilator to his own ears in the stark quiet of the early morn. The soft murmur of the TV is now an uncanny garble of white noise, indistinguishable from the creek of the cool wood beneath his feet and the loud _click-clack_ of Nigou’s claws against the floor.

Everything is as he left it last night, not an object out of place. The soft orange glow of the lamp looks just as bright, the door is still locked and there doesn’t appear to be any strangers lurking about with a knife. So what has Nigou so worked up?...

Tetsuya hums to himself as he considers the possibilities. “Did you want to go for a walk?” He really isn’t up for that so early on a winter day, but he figures it’s better in the long run to do a quick walk around the block than to be woken up repeatedly. Or worse, have his grandmother wake up from all the ruckus…Tetsuya’s sleepy eyes widen as he’s hit by a realization. Surely with all the noise Nigou was making, his grandmother would’ve gotten up to investigate or even just let Nigou out to the backyard until he’s up and ready to walk Nigou himself. She’s a light sleeper, easily startled and slow to relax, a rather unfortunate match for her high blood pressure problems.

He’s starting to feel a sort of anxious buzz prickling under his skin, like he’s threatening to bursting apart like a balloon due to the pressure building. “G…Grandmother?” Tetsuya whispers cautiously.

His heart is thundering in his ears, loud and steady like a countdown. Slowly, he forces his feet to carry him to the couch to face his grandmother, and he feels the cold grip of dread start to loosen its hold. She looks just as peaceful as she did when he placed the quilt over her small form, eyes eased shut and jaw relaxed, leaving her mouth the slightest bit open. Pale skin lined with shallow wrinkles and snow white hair still tied back into a loose braid. Unfortunately his sense of relief is fleeting once he starts to process just how pale she is, even under the warm orange of the lamp spidery blue veins spread out visible like a roadmap under her papery skin.

“Halmeoni?” Tetsuya repeats breathlessly, trying Korean this time to entice any kind of response. Nervously, he puts a hand to her shoulder in order to gently rouse her to wakefulness he notices how stiff she feels.

“Gr…Gra…” He nudges her a little rougher this time, panic returning tenfold. He puts a hand to her cheek in some half-planned gesture to attempt to wake her when his was struck by how unnaturally _cold_ and _hard_ her flesh feels to the touch. He retracts his hand in a violent flinch as if he’s been burned.  Realization and horror hit him all at once like a bucket of ice being dumped over his head, and everything is wildly spinning, it feels like he’s on a boat with how much the floor beneath his feet rolls and tilts, just further disorienting him. He hastily backpedals away from her, tripping over the coffee table he’d forgotten was there and is helpless to keep his legs from collapsing under his weight. He lands on the table back first and smacks his head off of the hard glass surface with a resounding _conk_ , far too overwhelmed to thank the manufactures for their sturdy product.

His hand feels alien.

The stone-like quality of her skin is imprinted on his fingertips like a tactile tattoo.

He gracelessly rolls off of the table and flops onto the hard floor, air mechanically forced out of his lungs as he painfully lands on his side. He can feel his eyes rolling listlessly as he tried to figure out what to do besides panic.

  1. That’s who people are supposed to call in an emergency.



_‘Not much of an emergency when she’s already dead’_ the awful, cynical part of him can’t help but chime in. He feels sicker for thinking such a thing so he has to stuff such thoughts aside. Tetsuya almost puts a hand to his face in attempt to collect himself when he recoils at the memory of touching his grandmother just moments ago. He’s struck with a sudden and intense need to scrub his hands, which serves to make him feel worse because he was acting as if his closest confident was some dirty thing he’d come into contact with on the side of the road. For a moment he’s struck with paralysis, staring at the shadowy white ceiling as indecisiveness locks up his joints. He’s torn between contacting help and washing his hands before doing so.

In the end he rolls onto his knees and clambers up onto his feet. As bad as he feels about his skewed priorities, he knows he won’t be able to use the phone with such a heavy distraction on his hands. He stands upright, then stumbles as blood rushes to his aching head at the sudden motion. Recovers and speed walks to his kitchen to pour a liberal amount of dish soap onto his hands. The green coloured, apple scented surfactant is a balm to his frayed nerves. The suds, coloured rainbow as they refracted the low lighting circle the drain before getting washed down into oblivion. Its hypnotising, the way the colours spin and the increasing warmth of the water is a comfort. He’s being overtaken by an odd feeling of serenity. By the time the water is hot enough to scald his skin he turns off the tap and dries his hands.

Funny enough, now his hands are the only part of his body he can feel.

A pleasant numbness is running through him and his blood feels cold as if some sort of anesthetic is coursing through his veins. 119. He’s floating back to his room, never in his life, even in Teiko has he so fully embraced his title of phantom. He can’t even hear the sound of his bare feet padding against the probably freezing floor, nor the creak of the boards as he ghosts down the hall. He sees his phone still charging on his nightstand where he left it and the device feels particularly cold in his hands, smooth and glossy to the touch as he turns it on. The starting animation casts an eerie blue glow in his room as it boots up, unusually captivating as he watches it swirl around the black screen before it lights up with a familiar lock screen image.

_“119 what is your emergency?”_

“My grandmother passed away.”

Who’s voice is that coming out of his mouth?

_“Are you certain she’s no longer living?”_

“She’s gone into rigor mortis.”

It’s so detached, almost bored.

_“What is the address of your emergency?”_

Like the narrator of a text-to-speech program, choppy and unnatural.

_“Help will be there in fifteen minutes. Can I get your name and age?”_

“Kuroko Tetsuya, fif-sixteen.”

Just a week ago they’d celebrated.

_“Is anyone else home with you?”_

“No.”

Always just the two of them.

_“Is there anyone you can call to be with you?”_

“Um…”

…

Why can’t he think of anyone? His father is abroad and his mother is down in Osaka for the week. He doesn’t really know any other parts of his family well enough to have their phone number. His mind then jumps to his middle school friends, but he’s quick to remember that Akashi and Murasakibara are quite distant. And as far as they’d all come in repairing their relationships, he really doesn’t feel like he can rely on them in a crisis anymore. Then Seirin crosses his mind, but he didn’t feel comfortable troubling his teammates, especially so early in the morning. Though out of anyone, Kagami is probably his best bet. He doesn’t have any parents with him to be bothered by his sudden intrusion, and Kagami always insists he visit more often…

“I…think so.”

_“Good, it’s best you aren’t alone. Was she your sole guardian?”_

“No, I have a mother and father but they are currently both away on business.”

_“Alright, help is on the way, you’ve been very brave Kuroko-san. If it’s possible I need you to wait for the ambulance away from your grandmother, can you wait for the paramedics in another room?”_

“Yes.”

_“Remember to contact someone to keep you company, and it would be in your best interests to spend the night at their house.”_

“Yes. Thank you.”

_“Do your best to remain calm, and thank you for your cooperation. Help is on the way.”_

“Thank you.”

Tetsuya hangs up on the operator. For a moment he just stands there, stone still as another wave of shock rolls through him. He’s trying to weather it like a rock on the shore but he can feel himself getting worn down into grains of sand, scattering in the wind as he’s battered repeatedly by the reality of the situation. His grandmother is dead. He just called 119 to take away her body. He has a math test tomorrow.

Kagami.

With trembling fingers Tetsuya taps in his teammate’s number, and waited with baited breath as the dial tone rings. Voicemail. He should’ve known Kagami wouldn’t have picked up, it’s still rather early and he probably won’t appreciate being spammed with phone calls and texts. Perhaps he can borrow one of his father’s credit cards to rent a hotel room, or worst case scenario just roam the streets until it’s time for school-

He almost drops his phone out of surprise when it starts to violently vibrate in his hand. Kagami’s calling. Licking his chapped lips in a futile attempt to help words slide out with more ease, Tetsuya answers the call.

At first, all he can hear is indistinguishable grumbling. Admittedly it could be coherent, but Tetsuya really isn’t proficient enough in English to decipher any of it when Kagami speaks this unclearly. Luckily Kagami manages to start mumbling in decipherable Japanese. _“Yo. Wha’…um. Who’s this?”_

“It’s Kuroko. I…need your help.”

Kagami seems to pause before almost yelling into the phone. _“Are you in trouble? Where are you? Are you okay?! Give me a second to get dressed!”_ Kuroko can hear a bunch of rustling from the other end that’s probably Kagami scrambling around for his sake. He could see Kagami now in his mind’s eye, literally leaping out of bed holding his phone in a death grip. He was truly moved by how much Kagami was willing to do for him. They haven’t even known each other for a year, and he just has to suggest that he’s in peril for the other to rush to his aid. He’s only known two other people like that in his whole life.

Neither of them are his parents.

One of them is dead.

“I’m fine Kagami-kun, thank you but please take your time and be careful.” The absolute last thing he needs is Kagami getting killed while trying to help him. He feels himself grow a little colder at just the thought.

 _“Eh? Then what’s going on_?” There’s a lot less noise in the background now, so Tetsuya assumes he’s heeded his words and slowed his pace.

“My…” His throat clenches painfully all the sudden. It was a lot easier talking to some faceless person doing their job, but now that he’s really saying it to someone he knows... “My…my…” The words are stuck, choking him like a bone stuck in this esophagus.

_“…Kuroko?”_

“…grandmother.” He really hoped Kagami could make the leap because he really couldn’t say it.

_“Oh! Did she get hurt? Do you need help taking her to the hospital?”_

“It’s…too late.”

 _“Oh. Oh, so she’s…”_ Kagami seemed to take his cue and hedges around the words as well. _“Like, just now?”_

“I think? Nigou woke me up.”

 _“Shit man…like, not that I don’t want to help however I can, but I really hope you don’t want me to…”_ Kagami trails off quietly, and Tetsuya’s eyes widened in horror as he realizes what he was probably implying. Just the thought of touching her again sends a shiver down his spine and guilt churning in his stomach.

“I’ve called 119 already. They told me I shouldn’t be alone and to leave the house once everything’s taken care of. I wasn’t sure who else to call and you always insisted that I should rely on you, though this really is too much. I’m sorry for bothering you.” That fluttering anxiety is flaring back up, regret and fear a corrosive bile that’s chasing those insects that are trying to escape.

 _“Dude, dude, chill! I just wanted to know what you need me to do. You can crash at my place as long as you need. Though if you don’t mind me asking…where are your parents? Or whoever takes care of you…was she all you had?”_ Kagami askes cautiously. _“I’m leaving my apartment, what’s you address?”_ The statement is punctuated by the muffled sound of his door shutting, and the echoing quality his voice acquires as Tetsuya assumes he walks through a hall.

“Please just wait for me at your house, I’ll take a cab once I’m finished over here.” Tetsuya interjects as he shuffled on the spot. Kagami’s house is only a half-hour walk from here, but he really can’t make the journey on foot right now, especially while burdened with a bag of his things and his breathing this choppy without the sheer cold.

_“What? No. I’m coming over there and we can take my cab back.”_

“Kagami-kun, you-…alright.” He just doesn’t have the energy to dreg up the will-power required to deter him at the moment. He can’t help but fall back on that selfish part of him that says it’s okay to let someone else take charge for a moment. That small, stupidly soft part of him that’s still holding out its arms like a toddler, and is comforted to know someone is coming for him.

 _“Cool, text it to me and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_ Promises Kagami. _“I…I gotta hang up now to call the taxi but reach me if anything happens. Oh! And start packing some overnight stuff, bring enough clothes for a few days…and don’t forget your basketball stuff! Sorry, hanging up now…wait! Nigou!”_

He forgot about the dog again, and had to glance around his feet to make sure he was still sitting there loyally. "Um...I'll just..."

He isn’t quite sure what to do with him at the moment. He's not even sure if Kagami’s apartment even allows pets, but can’t afford to fragment another piece of his mind to worry about it.

_“...I…g-guess he can spend the night. But then it’s the kennel! Anyways, bye!”_

He’s feeling a vague sense of amusement at Kagami’s mothering as he listens to the dial tone before hanging up himself. He may be a lot like Aomine, but he has a few traits in common with Midorima as well. He sends his address before beginning to throw his necessities into a duffle bag as requested. It’s his basketball bag so it already contains his school and practice attire, so all he has to do was toss in random articles of casual clothes, undergarments and toiletries. He’s hesitant to grab Nigou’s things (which reminds him, he’s supposed to be keeping a closer eye on the pup,) and leave the shelter of his room. In here he could almost pretend he’d simply just woken up for a nightmare and his grandmother really was sleeping peacefully in her bed.

But he’s learned the hard way several times over that ignorance is never bliss, the world waits for no one and the weak are left behind. He sighs to himself as he looks at the time. About seven minutes have passed since he called emergency services, so he can’t afford to dally unless he wants to remain here after they -

To lessen the number of items to carry, he simply crams his schoolbag into the duffle bag as well before venturing out of his saferoom to retrieve Nigou’s things. The house is silent and he’s alone but he still treads carefully down the hall as if he were earlier’s hypothetical intruder. The _click-clack_ of Nigou’s blunt claws alert Tetsuya of his shadow as he rounds the corner to the living room where the dog’s bed is, sticking close to the walls and pointedly staring at his feet until he reaches the object. Thankfully his food and water dishes are near the sliding door that connects the room to the backyard, and are near empty since he hadn’t had the chance to refill it for the day.

Slinking back to his room with the same unnecessary stealth, Tetsuya manages to finish packing just a few moments before there’s a series of quick but firm knocks on his front door. He’s aware it’s stupid, but he can’t help but hope that Kagami somehow convinced the taxi driver to teleport to his house in order to arrive before the ambulance. Expelling a weary sigh, He strides briskly to the answer and let in the emergency responders, faceless adults rushing into his house with their equipment.

He makes himself a part of the wall as he numbly watches them pull the quilt off of his grandmother, lifting her stiff body and laying her on the gurney on her side, still contorted in the sleeping position she died in.

She’s really dead.

He’s not sure why it takes him by surprise every time the though drifts across his consciousness. That fact was pretty clear after he touched her cold white skin, but it still manages to feel like a skull-caving blow every time the realization strikes him.

She’s really dead.

He’s pretty sure he talks to the paramedics and the pair of police officers before they just march in and take the b- his grandmother, but he can’t remember what they said or what came out of his mouth to appease them. Or perhaps they hadn’t talked at all and they’d simply let him fade into the background after confirming he was as unharmed as what he’d said with a cursory glance.

They at least grant him the small mercy of putting a white sheet over her form as they wheel her out. He drifts after like a ballon tied with a string, barefoot as they loaded her up into the ambulance. Their every motion is smooth with practiced ease, and with gentle care they can afford to take since it isn’t exactly a matter of life and death, though they do have other lives to save. His feet are burning. Just as they slam the doors closed a taxi pulled up by the bottom of his driveway, and before it even comes to a full stop, Kagami come barreling out.

“Kuroko!” He bellows as he charges towards him. He’s only dressed in his grey pajama pants and his black winter jacket, which gives Tetsuya the impression that he really did rushed over as fast as he could.

“Excuse me sir, but you can’t be here.” One of the officers intervenes before he can get close, but Kagami seems to be having none of it.

“Hey! My friend is the one who called you in, and he needs me right now so please move!” Kagami yells as he jabs a finger in Tetsuya’s direction, causing many eyes swivel in his direction. Never quite landing on him, roaming like searchlights in the dark for a criminal until he raises a hand like a white flag of surrender.

Seeing Tetsuya’s nod of agreement the two officers relax slightly, yet continue maintain their human barrier. “Sir, you’re going to have to calm down before we let you onto the premises. It’s still rather early, so you’ll have to lower your volume as well.” They explain in a softer tone.

“Che. Sorry, I didn’t realize people were still sleeping.” Kagami growls with a pointed look towards his neighbours. The wail of the sirens and the flashing of the vehicles have attracted attention, drawing people out of their houses and noses pressed to windows in order to watch the spectacle in all its glory.

With a sigh their wall parts to let Kagami through and he wastes no time whirling around in a tizzy, whipping his head to and fro as he tries to relocate his shadow in the thinning crowd. After one sweep his fiery gaze finally hones back on him, and he jogs towards Tetsuya in a far more contained manner than his entrance. “Kuroko, there you are.” The relief in his voice is palpable as he sweeps Tetsuya into a brief, but tight hug. “How are you feeling? Wait, shit question. Um, are you all packed? Everything ready to go here?” He askes hesitantly as he takes in the decreasing amount of emergency responders wandering about.

He can only shrug. They’ve taken his statement and his grandmother, so he doesn’t think there’s anything else they want from him. “Let me get my bag.”

He leads Kagami into his house to retrieve his bag and Nigou. While his light is examining the interior of his home Tetsuya lugs his bag out of his room, Nigou happily trailing after him with his tail wagging wildly at his return.

“Let me.” Insists Kagami as he takes the handles from his loose grip.

He still can’t be bothered to put socks on and just slips his numb feet into his boots, letting them continue to freeze and chafe uncomfortably as he walks. Unable to leave his hands empty he simply picks up Nigou and shadows Kagami, staying slightly behind him so he could still be seen but not stared at unless Kagami forgoes subtlety. Using his free hand, Kagami opens the cab door for him and Tetsuya crawls in without complaint as Kagami puts his things in the trunk. The cabbie gives a disdainful look at Nigou as he clamours around in the back excitedly, but thankfully redirects his gaze forward without comment as Kagami slams the trunk shut with enough force to shake the car. Kagami then enters the taxi himself with about the same amount of finesse before gruffly saying to the driver, “Same address you picked me up from please.” Tetsuya stops paying attention then, just leans back completely limp in his seat and stares out the window.

The sky is filled with salmon, slow swimming and puffy. Dark blue clouds with blood orange bellies that drift above the rising sun as day breaks. He sees his house pulling away from him, then his yard, street, neighbourhood, all falling further and further away until he can’t find home if he tries. Unfamiliar roads, moving faces as the world wakes, business people crawling on the sidewalks like ants as they commute to work. Everything is bathed in that same soft orange light under the sun’s warm glow. Glittering off the freshly fallen snow that rained down in the night, a sparkling sea of tangerine, pink and blue. Even though he can’t feel the heat of the sun he can feel the tangible weight of the light as it falls on him, pressing on half of his face as the window and the low height of the sun cast shadows on him. His eyes are left shaded and if he doesn’t fix his gaze on the window pane itself, simply allowing the world to move into a blur, his eyes quickly tire of jumping from figure to figure in an attempt to keep up. 

They’re slowing, slowing, slowing down. Vaguely familiar trees, buildings, signs come speeding towards him. Pulling closer, closer, before they roll to a stop in front of Kagami’s apartment complex. He can hear Kagami paying for the fair and he wishes he heard the total so he could’ve at least paid half of it, but if he suggests such a thing now Kagami would just refuse his money. He should probably get out of the taxi, get his bag and maybe even take Nigou for a proper walk to clear his head. He should probably call in to school. Should probably call his parents. Should just –

“Kuroko?” Kagami is staring at him with worry because he’s standing there outside the cab with his bag and even Nigou is rolling in the snow while he’s still sitting there. The driver has a less patient expression.

He wanted to apologize for holding both of them up but his tongue sits in his mouth like it’s made of lead. His whole body feel ridiculously heavy and burdensome but he forces his muscles to work, first sitting up and then opening the door. His unfortunate lack of weather appropriate dress is brought to his awareness as the sheer cold easily pierces through his sweater and the slush soaks through the old boots he meant to throw away as he steps out of the vehicle. He probably should have been paying attention to what he packed, he wouldn’t have been surprised if a few other useless articles ended up being taken as well. Silently he walks over to Kagami and watches with something stirring in his chest as the cab immediately pulls away as soon as he’s out of the way.

“It’s cold out. I’ll put the kettle on when we get inside.” Is all Kagami says before he leads Kuroko inside, holding doors open even though he’s the one carrying bag. The warm air rolls over him like a sigh as they walk into the main lobby and into the elevator, Nigou following his master loyally even without a leash.

The lift is bereft of any sound aside from the dog’s panting and Kagami’s boots grinding against the floor as he shifts his weight uneasily. “You okay? You’re kinda quiet…well, quieter than usual.”

He isn’t necessarily a quiet person, he just speaks when he has something to say. He’s never been one for pointless chatter and right now, he just has nothing to say. So he shrugs and hopes it will suffice. Kagami seems to pause before just nodding in affirmation, and Tetsuya isn’t quite sure what kind of resolve he just solidified in his teammate’s mind but it’s quiet and that’s all he wanted.

Quiet.

He always hated silence.

The doors finally part with a soft ding and Kagami leads the way to his apartment, a short walk from the elevator, located just around the corner from it. He feels an echo of amusement as he watches Kagami fumble with his key in a subtle parallel to the first time the team visited. Something about seeing someone so large and confident ham-hand his way through dexterous activities was usually up his sadistic alley, but now he can’t help but feel like it’s nerves that make his fingers tremble. That he’s finally feeling the weight of the burden Tetsuya’s placing on him and he’s unsure of what to do. Or that he doesn’t really want to let him into his home but - Tetsuya has to shut down before his thoughts can start to gain traction. He walks into the spacious unit with his head in a fog, sits down on the couch Kagami gestured to and studies the hardwood flooring at his feet.

His fingers are trembling.

His whole body is shaking.

His feet feel soggy and his fingers and toes are still thawing. He’s cold. There’s even a dull throb at the tips of his ears as warmed blood is pumped back into them.

Shivering.

He’s startled when he feels something drape over his shoulders, and turns to find Kagami is placing a thick blanket over him. “Geez, you should’ve put on a real coat before we left.” He mumbles to himself. To Kuroko’s even greater surprise Kagami also has a towel on hand, and is using it to gently dry his snow dampened hair. He’s not sure how that happened since it wasn’t snowing but he supposes the wind carried it. “You’ll catch a cold like this stupid. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

Tetsuya is almost tempted to come up with some snarky reply but instead he just closes his eyes and basks in the contact. He is…very grateful to Kagami right now.

“We’ll get through this.” He hears Kagami murmur as he finishes.

 _We? What do you mean we?_ Tetsuya can’t help but wonder. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the support but this really has nothing to do with Kagami. He isn’t moving in, spending two days at most, so why does it seem like he implied they would be spending lots of time together? The team hadn’t even had a chance to meet her yet so Kagami couldn’t really be devastated…why is Kagami…this isn’t his problem…

Even if he had his voice he wouldn’t have asked about it anyways. If Kagami felt vicariously sad, then they could…work through it together, or something, just as he said. The more he thinks about how people would normally feel in this situation, it bomes more and more apparent that he’s doing something wrong. He doesn’t feel sad. He doesn’t feel _anything_ but a vague sense of loss and nothingness. Just a sensation of emptiness, purposeless, and disappointment that reminds him of his third year of middle school.

Suddenly a large green mug is blocking his view of the white walls across from him. “Here. You don’t have to drink it, just hold it to warm up your hands.” Accepting the cup with prickling fingers Tetsuya looks into the mug and by scent alone he recognises it as camomile tea. Although the mug is made of glass all the heat of the liquid had no problem being conducted through the material, steadily burning his palms with increasing intensity. Soon the pain turns to an itching sensation, then tingling, then fades entirely as his skin acclimatizes to the scalding heat. Belatedly, he realizes that he hasn’t shown his gratitude to Kagami. At all. Never even squeezed in a thank-you after he woke him up so early and ruined his day before it started.

He supposes this was what his mother always talks about, he’s always ungrateful when it counts most. He didn’t even take a sip of the tea before it went cold (another sign of his ingratitude) but there’s a bitter taste in his mouth and something unpleasant sloshing around in his stomach. It won’t taste as good cold or feel as soothing but he couldn’t let Kagami’s kindness go to waste.

After taking a tentative sip it’s a pleasant surprise to find that it’s just below lukewarm rather than ice cold. As he’s slowly drinking he also started to wonder where the apartment’s other inhabitants are. He quickly finds Kagami sleeping on a couch in the other corner of the room, still sitting upright as though he’d fallen asleep unintentionally. If he couldn’t hear his soft snores he would have worried, because it was reminiscent enough of-

Nigou. Kagami- _Shesdeadshesdead-_ wouldn’t be happy if the dog was roaming around freely and making a mess. Perhaps…

…perhaps he should…

…look for…

He hadn’t realized he started dozing until he’s shocked awake by the sensation of the mug slipping from his weakened grasp. Setting the half empty cup down on the coffee table (on top of a coaster of course) he tugs the blanket more securely around himself and closes his eyes, easing back into the cushions. It’ll be fine if he sleeps for another hour or so…Kagami would definitely wake him up…they’ll defiantly wake up in time to make it to practice…

The world doesn’t stop for one person after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   ~~Bing Bang, Bong Bang! A body has been discovered!~~  
>  As the tags imply there’s going to be a large focus on Kuroko’s mental state and there will be a few POV switches down the line. This fic is more about the fall than the recovery so the end probably won’t be as conclusive as some of you would like, but I am not against a few post-fic one-shot requests when this is over ~~ifIfinish~~.
> 
> My work is unbeta-ed per usual, sorry if there are mistakes!


	2. Proxysmal Afibrillation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Paroxysmal Afib: a temporary, sometimes recurrent condition. It can start suddenly and then the heart returns to a normal beat on its own, usually within 24 hours, without medical assistance.”_  [HeartandSroke](https://www.heartandstroke.ca/heart/conditions/atrial-fibrillation)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowie, it's been a while! I meant to post this in the afternoon but life happened, what can you do. I plan to update every other week on monday if I can, to brighten up the start of the week! I'll post soon if possible though. Shout out to everyone who's bookmarks and subscribed (So soon, it was just chapter 1, I'm flattered!) Super shout out to the people who commented because each one brightened my day, even if it was asking for an update, I'm still smiling, thank you so much. 
> 
> This chapter definitely isn't filler, but it's probably not the most exciting either. More is happening chapter three, but please enjoy.  
> (Warning: Brief description of a corpse )

He is not in fact, woken up by his friend, but by a phone call. His phone still on vibrate, shakes him into alertness, the blanket sliding off his shoulders as he jerks upright in shock. He’s unreasonably panicked about fishing the device out of his pocket and taking the call, but after being startled awake and consequentially wired with adrenaline, he just wants it to stop. He’s alarmed to find that they’re already a half-hour late for class, never mind basketball practice, and it’s his mother calling. For a fleeting moment he considers turning off his phone, but he knows that would be rude and it would only exasperate whatever had incensed her to actually phone him during her work hours.

“Good morning Mother.”

 _“Good morning, Tetsuya. Where are you? Why didn’t you call me?”_ Her tone is as sharp as her mind, and talking to her on a good day is exhausting so he’s nowhere near able to keep up with her at the moment.

“I…was distracted. I apologize for worrying you, I meant to call but I’d fallen asleep. I am currently at one of my teammates’ houses, they offered to let me stay until you returned from your meeting.”

She sighs into the phone, and he doesn’t need to see her to know her expression. Eyes closed and the skin between her perfectly shaped eyebrows wrinkling, pinching the bridge of her nose like she always does when he says or does something particularly foolish. _“I think your grandmother dying would count as an emergency. The hospital called asking where to send her body, they currently have her in storage. They performed an autopsy and determined she had an aneurism in her sleep, quick and painless. I’m about five hours away, though I may be another half-hour if traffic gets worse. I’ll meet you at home.”_

He feels the tea squeezing its way back up his throat. He can imagine it, his grandmother’s body no longer hunched over, laid out on a metal tray in a cold room and sliced open, organs on display like an anatomically correct model. Then toe-tagged and packaged in a bag, pushed into a wall full of other cadavers, neatly filed away in her own coffin-sized drawer for convenient storage. Swallowing back the bile, acid still burning his esophagus he cries, “No!...please. I…can’t go back right now. Can I please stay with my friend until…” What, the house is disinfected?

_“Don’t you think you’re imposing a little too much on your friend? You should be at school right now anyways. I got a call from them as well, that’s why I called you. I assumed you hadn’t contacted me because you were putting your education first, but clearly that isn’t so. I’ll cut you a break this time though. I’ve pulled you out of school until Monday. I know this is hard on you, but with your grades you really can’t afford to miss any more.”_

Today is Wednesday. Five days isn’t nearly enough time, he isn’t just going to get over her in _five days-_

_“It happened in the living room right? We’ll have to get new furniture. I already started ordering a new set; that old one was worn down anyways so you won’t even recognise it when you come back. I’ve emailed your Father about the situation but I doubt he’ll just abandon his work, so he’ll likely be home on schedule. We’ll talk more in person, I have to go. Please remember to be a good guest and help around the household. Remind me to send his parents a thank-you gift for taking you in. I’ll keep you updated on the situation. Goodbye, Tetsuya.”_

“Goodbye, have a safe drive.” The words hardly leave his mouth before the sound of the dial tone bleeps in his ear. “…I’m alright, thank you.”

Not that she’d asked.

“Kuroko?”

He turns to his left to see Kagami groggily squinting at him.

“Who you talkin’ to?” He mumbles as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

“…My mother called. She was worried and I explained I was staying with you.” Burdensome. He’s wide awake now, and his body is itching to move, be useful. “I’ll make breakfast.” He says as he gets up from the couch. They’d been sleeping for maybe three hours but his body still felt taxed despite the lack of physical exertion. In fact, he’d been doing just the opposite of exerting himself so he found that rather unfair, but pushed on anyways.

“Um, that’s alright. You can just boil eggs right?” Kagami said as he gave him a suspicious look, like if he attempted anything more complicated he’d be able to replicate coach’s work.

“Other simple egg-based dishes aren’t beyond my abilities.” He can make easy meals. They won’t be anything near five-stars like Kagami’s food, but he always manages to cook something edible if he has the recipe on hand.

“It’s fine, you’ve had a rough night…morning?” Kagami ponders as he too rises, towering over Tetsuya as he stretches his long limbs, mouth unhinging in a yawn that shows off his teeth reminiscent of a real tiger. “And you’re a guest.”

Tetsuya fidgets in place as his generous host turns his back to him, walking somewhere further into the apartment. “About that…I know it’s much longer than you intended, but would it be alright if I stayed with you until Friday evening? I promise, after practice I’ll be gone.” Give him an inch and he always takes a mile.

Kagami barely glances back as he casually says, “Did you think I was going to kick you out this afternoon? You did bring enough for a few days right? You can spend the whole weekend if you aren’t sick of me by then. That couch is actually a fold-out bed and I have some spare futons, I don’t know why I forgot to offer you one of those. Hell, we can share my bed if that kind of thing doesn’t bother you.” He finishes with a shrug before disappearing from sight, presumably to his bathroom to get cleaned up.

He can feel his gut clenching with more guilt. He’s relieved that Kagami agreed to host him for so long but he knows his debt will just grow greater and greater by the day. There had to be something he can do for Kagami…something he will appreciate…

Shaking his head he decides to focus on things he can actually do at the moment, like taking care of himself and Nigou. Rifling through his hastily packed bag which they’d left at the entrance of the apartment, he digs out some of Nigou’s things like his food and water bowls, things he should’ve set up when they arrived really. The sound of his kibble being poured summons Nigou from wherever he had holed himself up in for the night and running straight for the food, tail wagging so excitedly even his hind paws were shuffling side-to-side.

He makes quick work of finding his own things and by the time he's ready to use the washroom, Kagami is heading towards the kitchen to cook. He didn’t need much time to freshen up, brushes his teeth and changes into a T-shirt and sweatpants. He doesn’t spend much time in the mirror, just needs to catch of glance of greyish skin and bags under his eyes to know he looked bad and cold water won’t fix it. He can feel a bump on the back of his head from his spill on the coffee table earlier, decently sized and tender to the touch. He realizes he probably should’ve told someone about that but he hadn’t fallen into a coma while he slept, so he feels it’s safe to say he isn’t concussed and is content to leave it alone. Absently he wonders if he’s coming down with something before ultimately deciding he’s fine, whether his immune system really agrees or not. He comes back out into the main area to find Kagami bustling about the kitchen, heating up pans and chopping things like a professional.

“You didn’t need to skip practice and school, I was fully prepared to attend.” Says Tetsuya as he opens up cupboards almost at random. He can’t quite remember where the plates are, but he could have sworn they’re somewhere near…

“To your right.” Kagami guides. “And I figured we would both be too tired to learn anything. I texted coach about what happened after you got settled – never wake her by the way,” Kagami warns with a fearful expression. “And she said take as much time off as you need. But not long enough to get out of shape.” The redhead chuckles at that before poking at whatever’s cooking in the pan.

Tetsuya busies himself with setting the table as he assimilates the information. If he told coach then no doubt she’ll tell the team what happened to explain their absence. He’s sure the condolences will start rolling in by lunch. “Can Kagami-kun really afford to miss any classes?”

“Oi! I’ll be fine, worry about yourself. You better not have caught a cold standing outside in just a sweater.” Tetsuya is more amused than frightened by the hot cooking utensil being jabbed in his direction for emphasis.

“I’ll be fine if Kagami-kun is taking care of me.” He replies earnestly, and is rewarded with the other sputtering and turning red in embarrassment.

“D-Don’t say things like that so easily! Especially with that face!”

After a quiet breakfast (or as quiet as it can be when Kagami always flinches and bangs his knee off the table when Nigou comes too close to beg for scraps,) Tetsuya tasks himself with clearing the table.

“You really don’t need to do all that, just take it easy.” Says Kagami as he tries to take the dishes from his hands.

“Please let me clean up Kagami-kun, I insist. You’ve done so much for me already today…” He trails off as he takes some to the sink, while Kagami follows behind him with the rest of the dishes.

“That’s what friends are for. If you really feel like you owe me something, you can help me study once we’re finished.” Argues Kagami as he grabs a towel for drying.

Tetsuya pauses, and so does Kagami as he regards his sudden stillness. “Kagami-kun. Can you please just let me do this for you?...I…just need to do something.”

He didn’t mean to sound pitiful but it manages to convince Kagami to throw in the towel with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll be studying out there. Be ready to help me with math when you’re finished, this test is going to kick my ass tomorrow so I can’t waste extra study time.”

With Kagami out of the way Tetsuya finally starts his self-imposed chore. The dish soap is lemon scented and a bright neon yellow colour that would be eye-straining in large amounts. Using his hands, taking some of the work from Kagami, relieves a bit of tension in his system. He feels some of the worry draining away with the suds, circling, circling, circling in the water until it vanishes into the void.

He really hopes his mother doesn’t call him for the rest of the week.

He feels bad for thinking such an awful thing, but it’s true.

She usually isn't quite that snappish, but he imagines she's under quite a bit of stress with all of her responsibilities suddenly conflicting.

He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to do from now on. His father is always on the move, coming home every other week or so, staying for a few days before vanishing again to complete his next commission. While he can usually at count on his mother to come home every day, it isn’t like he sees much of her when she works such long hours. He usually gets about a handful of real conversations with her a week. The amount of time his parents are absent never felt like a long time when he had Halmeoni but…soon he’s going to essentially be living alone.

Alone.

In the silence.

Is his mother going to spend more time at home now? He really doesn’t want to deal with her. She isn’t a bad person, they just never quite…see eye to eye. They just view things differently and unfortunately, are equally stubborn so they’re quick to sit in a tense quiet just to end the fighting. She always micromanages him, suffocates him with worry. It’s only with Halmeoni’s mediation do they have civil discussions.

The more he thinks about it, the more appealing it sounds to stay in Kagami’s house forever.

Tired of letting his heavy thoughts weigh him down, he refocuses his attention back to dish washing. There isn’t much to clean up, they hadn’t used much and Kagami only had three cups sitting in the sink beforehand so he was done in good time. After getting his school supplies from his bag, he places his notebooks next to Kagami’s at the coffee table.

It seems like while he was busy in the kitchen, Kagami had put on music. It's coming from his laptop, a thin, sleek thing that has fairly good sound quality in his humble opinion, and is emitting some soft English song. He can only understand a stray word or two every few seconds but the melancholic cadence of the piano transcribes the sorrow without difficulty.

“Thank god you’re here. Can you help me with questions three and seven?”

* * *

 

“Are you sure?” Kagami asks for the second time. He looks reluctant but Tetsuya can tell by the way he’s fidgeting with the basketball, tossing it up and spinning it around, that he’s anxious to play. Especially after being cooped up inside and studying all day. Of course they took breaks and stopped for lunch but they found as time went by, their breaks became longer and time spent actually studying became shorter until it just made more sense to put away their books all together.

“I’d like to thank them in person.” Says Tetsuya as he slips on his boots. They’d left them over a hot air vent to dry so his feet are pleasantly toasty when he puts them in. The heat is quick to fade though and his feet are only going to get colder if he isn’t careful to avoid slush. Kagami is lending him one of his old jackets; a large red one that reaches just past his mid-thighs where it ended a bit below Kagami’s hips, and leaves his fingertips a good two inches from the opening of the sleeves. If he were to flip up the hood all the way, it would completely engulf his entire head even without the faux fur lining.

For a moment it seems like Kagami is going to protest but to his relief he just shakes his head to himself and trusts Tetsuya’s probably skewed judgement. It isn’t like Kagami particularly wants to miss practice but as he’s expressed multiple times throughout the day, he just thinks Tetsuya should at least spend twenty-four hours mentally recuperating. Personally he finds sitting around completely unhelpful, and thinks he’s coping just fine with his methods.

“ _Idle hands are the devils play things_.”

He can feel it down to his core. He’s like a machine left out in the rain. If he stalls even for a moment the rust he’s trying to keep at bay will consume him entirely and he’ll be left unable to function.

Useless.

Forgotten.

Obsolete.

Replaced.

Yes, rolling stones gather no moss and nothing keeps him moving like basketball.

“Let’s get going then. Nigou will be okay on his own?” Kagami throws a skeptical look in the dog’s direction.

“Yes, I walked him earlier so we shouldn’t come back to a mess.” Promises Tetsuya as he picks up his bag, now devoid of anything he won’t need for practice since he put away his things for the rest of the week.

The air outside is still and the few clouds that were drifting earlier had dissipated entirely, leaving the sky a solid dome of expansive _blue_. The wind may have died down leaving winter unable to pierce through their coats, but the sheer cold alone will definitely still seep into them if they dally outside for too long. The air is fairly dry as well and he wants to slap himself for forgetting to bring a humidifier, he just prays he’ll be fine until he goes home. The walk is quiet and the lack of conversation is punctuated by the crunch of frozen lumpy ice beneath their boots. They usually don’t speak when they walk anywhere - occasionally it’s because Kagami thinks he’s by himself - but this time it feels different. He’s getting the sense that he’s supposed to say something, perhaps about his grandmother or how he’s feeling, but he’s perfectly content to remain mute even if Kagami directly asks. Then again, perhaps the tension is all in his head and Kagami is just walking, dimly aware that he has a shadow and is content to travel without conversation like normal.

They would have arrived a whole thirty minutes early to practice even if they slowed their pace, and the last thing they want to do is hang around the school while class is in session. Even if they called in sick he’s pretty sure their sudden attendance won’t be appreciated, so they decide to make a quick stop at Maji Burger to hide and kill time.

Tetsuya is grateful that Kagami just allows him to pay for their food without fuss even if it doesn’t sum up to much, rather than insist on paying for this too. Although Kagami’s part of the order costs more than Tetsuya’s small vanilla shake, it seems he still remembers how indebt he feels to him. They just got something small to nibble on to pass time and even Kagami reduced his mountain of burgers down to merely three, because vigorous activity on a full stomach is just asking to get sick.

“Anything you want to do while you’re staying over? I have some snacks but I don’t know what you like to eat for dinner and stuff.” Mumbles Kagami before he takes a large bite of his first burger.

“I’m fine with whatever you make…” He’s absently sliding his drink from hand to hand rather than drinking it, condensation wetting his hands and the table. It’s cold, overly sweet and everything he didn’t realize he was in no mood for until he took a sip and the cloying taste is stuck on his tongue.

“What’s your favourite food?”

“Vanilla milkshakes.”

“Real food.”

“Vanilla cupcakes?”

“An actual meal! This is why you’re so tiny!” Kagami rubs his forehead in frustration.

As fun as he finds teasing Kagami, vanilla milkshakes really are his favourite. He isn’t particularly attached to any other food and he’s more of a frequent snack than a big meal kind of person. Neither he nor his grandmother ate much and they had supper early, she usually just prepares an extra plate of food for his mother to eat when she comes home.

…

At least, she used to.

Now feeling considerably more…blank, he stops fidgeting with his drink. “Thank you for your consideration Kagami-kun, but I’m happy to eat whatever you make.”

Kagami unwraps his second burger. “You’re way too low-maintenance. You know you can ask for things right? Because you’re my best friend and I like doing things for you, right?”

He then slides over the third in offering and Tetsuya has to shake his head in refusal, pushing it back to the redhead with care. “Thank you.”

He really doesn’t feel like eating at the moment, doesn’t even want to taste his shake again. He knows Kagami would do a lot for him, it makes him feel wanted and special. Makes him greedy and shellfish because he wants that feeling to last, and the more he takes the less Kagami will want to give. So if he keeps refraining, keeps Kagami at a distance, the closer he’ll want to be, the less likely he’ll get tired of him. He feels awful for scheming like this, taking advantage of Kagami’s kindness and stubborn nature, but the comfort of the thought of keeping Kagami that much longer outweighs his guilt. He’s the worst kind of person. He really has no right to consider his mother or Akashi manipulative when he turns around and does the same things.

“I know, and I appreciate that.” Is all Tetsuya can bring himself to say before sucking down the sludge in his cup and staring out the window, effectively communicating that the conversation is over.

Rather than press for answers like usual, Kagami is considerate and leaves him alone in his head. It seems like he only has two settings when he’s worried for a friend, overbearing or distant. Relentlessly pursuing for answers or uncharacteristically hesitant, cautious of mistakes. He’s only seen Kagami waver like this in the face of adversity when he was at odds with Himuro, struggling to repair their relationship but ultimately deciding to comply with what he thought were Himuro’s wishes. He doesn’t like it when Kagami is indecisive but for now it works in his favour.

The way he is now, Kagami is no threat to his composure. As long as he can keep it together, stay normal enough, Kagami will leave him be because he’s fine.

He’s fine.

The establishment isn’t particularly crowded at the moment but the ambient noise is collectively overwhelming. It’s disturbing how he can’t discern words or match a disembodied voice to a face as all the sounds overlap and meld together into cacophony. The harder he tries to sort out the mess, the louder it becomes and it’s all he can hear over his own thunderous heartbeat. Those indistinct murmurs that have melted into one sound, like the babble of a brook, uninterrupted and even punctuated by the sound stools scraping, people coughing, laughing. Noises leaping over each other before being re-assimilated into the static, like fish momentarily splashing above water before disappearing back into the deep.

His tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of his mouth but the sensation is oddly grounding, perhaps it’s the repetitive motion. His eyes are unblinking as he stares at his half empty cup and he watches with both a vacant gaze and avid focus, as beads of moisture join together and run down the side of the drink. They pool around the bottom creating a ring of water, and a larger part of his consciousness is still lost in the wall of white noise pressing down from all around him.

“Kuroko?”

Right. Kagami.

“Are you alr- all ready to go?” He stutters and he looks worried, but it seems like he’s decided to commit to the leave-it-alone approach.

Tetsuya nods in agreement as he picks up his half-finished milkshake to dispose of it as Kagami gathers his trash to do the same. Double checking their seats to make sure they didn’t forget anything, they leave without fanfare. As the bitter cold bites at his face and burns his airway, he finds himself wishing once again that he’d been a bit more conscious of his packing and brought a scarf. He tries to focus on the fact that he’d thrown in a pair of ear muffs, and the coat sleeves are warm enough for his bare hands at the very least. The silence they walk in doesn’t feel oppressive this time, just their usual soft air of companionship in the lull of conversation, each content to mull through his own thoughts.

One wouldn’t think that Kagami is a very pensive person, but unless he has a basketball in hand he seemed to…quiet. Not withdraw, definitely not shrink or dim, but he just…contains himself. His usual exuberance and intensity stored away until he ran into something to bounce off of. As far as he’s observed, Kagami only acts this relaxed around him. If he isn’t in the mood for conversation, Kagami sometimes thinks aloud or asks rhetorical questions, other days he let things peter off into a gentle silence like now. He always looks at ease in these moments so Tetsuya likes to think Kagami appreciates the calm.

There are students on the streets now, trudging along in their winter uniforms in masses like penguins journeying home. They’re nearing the school and Tetsuya has to constantly readjust the strap of the bag on his shoulder as he’s jostled by the condensing crowd, fighting against the flow of the stream as they head to the gym. Riko is already there setting up little orange pylons for warmup with Hyuga’s help and he catches a glimpse of Koganei’s back as the changing room door closes behind him, Mitobe assumedly ahead of him. Tetsuya looks to Kagami and he can see him dawning, the sun moving out of eclipse, as his usual feral grin stretches across his face. Warming his features like the glow of a new day, Kagami is returning to his natural state of vibrancy and action as they cross the court.

Riko looks up at the sound of their entrance and a smile immediately settles on her face. “Hello boys, hope you’re ready to work! The season may be officially over but we’re going to have to keep going full steam ahead if we want to keep our crown!” She looks as fired up as she sounds, one hand clutching her clipboard and the other clenched into a tight fist of determination. As soon as her eyes slide over to meet his, her smile softens a touch and her gaze turns sympathetic. It doesn’t feel bad, doesn’t leave an oily feeling on his skin like pity but soothing like a cool lotion to an abrasion. “But do take care of yourselves, I expect you guys to know your own limits as well. Go get changed.” She orders.

“Yes coach. Hello Hyuga-senpai.” Tetsuya greets as they pass him, and Kagami adds a casual _‘Hey,’_ himself.

“Kuroko, Kagami. Independent practice for today, I trust you can manage yourselves.” Is all their captain has to say to them at the moment. Yet while they’re still within arm’s reach he gives Tetsuya a quick pat on the shoulder, friendly and comforting before returning his attention to setup. It’s appreciated just as much as Riko’s smile and it makes him wonder if Kagami told them to back off or if they just know he needs a bit of space. At this point the team has little difficulty finding him when he isn’t actively hiding, so he couldn’t doubt that they figured out how to support him in a way that wasn’t smothering on their own.

Oh well, no matter how they knew what to do it was nice. As they walk into the change room he can’t help but imagine how his old team would have reacted if this had happened back then. Then again, depending on which year of middle school this scenario takes place, he’s sure their reactions would have vastly differed.

“Eh? Kagami and Kuroko are here?” Furihata is the first to see them, about to tug his t-shirt over his head before their arrival distracted him.

“I thought you guys were taking the day off.” Adds Fukuda as he laces up his shoes.

Tetsuya is satisfied with letting Kagami be his voice, and he just shrugs off their inquiries and begins to get ready. “Eh, we got bored.”

“We, or did you mean _you_ got bored?” teased Kawahara as he digs through his bag.

“Oi! I was the one who was trying to be responsible! I said take a day off, but he insisted!” Everyone laughs at how defensive Kagami gets at the barb. He can growl and deny it all he wants but everyone knew he was a big softy, a mother hen second to only Mitobe.

He lets their energy wash over him, happy to bask in their typical jolly atmosphere rather than contribute to the conversation and open himself up to questions. As he changes into his basketball shorts and a black T-shirt he can feel the eyes of his teammates flickering over to him periodically. He even meets their gazes a few times much to their embarrassment of being caught, but no one seems keen on addressing the elephant in the room.

 

With everyone dressed and ready to play, Riko blows her whistle to gather them around to listen. “We’re starting off basic today. We’re going to have a thorough warmup, and then just do rotations for the last half. Let’s start with twenty laps around the gym!” She blows her whistle again to dismiss them, and they’re off.

Normally, Tetsuya would go his own speed and aim to actually complete the exorcises without feeling like he’s going to die. Today however, he feels jittery, loose-limbed and ready to throw himself into something taxing. Kagami looks surprised to see him running by his side, especially since his long legs allow him to take one stride in equivalence to two of his, but he keeps going steady without comment. It’s odd to be near the head of the pack when usually he brings up the rear with Furihata, but he keeps his eyes trained on Hyuga’s back. He feels nervous all the sudden. He’s certain everyone noticed his change of pace, is staring daggers into his back thinking he was working so hard because he’s having difficulties-

He shakes his head and focuses on breathing. Makes sure the air is being drawn in from his nose and huffed out his mouth, really feels his muscles pull, stretch and warm as they jog. Well, he’s practically running to keep up with Kagami but he digresses. He tries to pay attention to the feeling of his lungs inflating and contracting, keeping note of how it feels and so far the first lap hasn’t been a strain. He’s watching his feet now, in a trance as he finds his usual stride. Up tempo and strenuous, but familiar as he watches the floor fly by underfoot. There’s scuff marks on the ground and he catalogues the ones he knows as they pass, that blue smear from the bottom of Kagami’s shoe, that dent in the glossy wood from Daimura when he dropped a piece of equipment in PhysEd.

He’s so distracted by his abstract thoughts that it isn’t until their sixth circuit he starts to really tire. He hasn’t slowed but he’s taken to gasping and his throat feels dry and raw. His chest _burns_. He knows he should stop, take a moment’s breather and get a sip of water. Coach wouldn’t berate him for it - or anyone for staying hydrated - because he’s running faster than he’s used to and she knows his physical limitations…but stopping feels like quitting. Taking a break sounds like giving up, admitting he’s weak, pushed too hard and burned out quick so he can’t. He knows this isn’t Teiko and there aren’t hordes of people snapping at his heels, willing to drag him down from his place rather than wait for him to fall. He knows the team would panic if he ran himself to the point of fainting but running is all he knows how to do, running away, chasing after, he can never afford to stop-

They’re slowing down.

He knows this because Hyuga’s back is coming closer and he’s actually starting to overtake Kagami so he must have missed some signal to take it down a gear. He has to concentrate to break the stride he has going, really focus on his legs to command them to match this new pace. It feels odd to step out of rhythm but this new speed is far less painful, he still feels that lingering burn in his chest but the pressure has eased and air comes easier. It’s definitely odd that they’ve dropped down to a cooldown speed when they’re not even half way through their assigned amount of laps but they’d passed by Riko not too far ago and she’d probably seen his fire-red face and heard him gasping for oxygen and instructed Hyuga accordingly. The new speed sets him at a bit slower than his regular jog and has Kagami trotting at his side, but no one complains or races on ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Really, did no one get the Dangan reference last time??? Lmao sorry for my dark humor then~~
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> I don’t normally mess with OCs but it was an obvious necessity if Kuroko’s family is heavily involved. I hope I can develop them into real characters you can grow to love and/or hate. It should also be noted that I love literature and am a great fan of foreshadowing and other devices.


	3. Absence Seizure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Absence seizures (say: ab-SAHNs) are a type of generalized seizure. They involve short periods of unresponsiveness, often many times a day. They usually begin in childhood, although they can occasionally begin in adulthood; they are very rare in infants."[AboutKidsHealth](http://www.aboutkidshealth.ca/En/ResourceCentres/Epilepsy/UnderstandingEpilepsyDiagnosis/TypesofSeizures/Pages/Absence-Seizures.aspx)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers, new and old! I’m glad this biweekly schedule is holding up. Huge thank you to everyone who commented, you’re still making me smile! I’m also super grateful to everyone who bookmarked and left kudos.
> 
> I lied, this chapter probably isn’t very exciting either. The plot isn’t moving as fast as I thought and I’m starting to realize this pace is going to make this into a lengthy story. Not that that’s a bad thing, but I’m starting to realize what a project this is.
> 
> Totally unbeta-ed per usual and just edited by me ~~at 1am~~ , so feel free to point out mistakes.

When he wakes up in the morning, he immediately regrets not listening to his body yesterday. After they finished their warmup laps, Riko gave them a list of workouts to get through, like sets of push-ups and squats. It wasn’t anything more intense than usual – or less – but it ached all the same when he had forced himself to take fewer breaks and power through his exercises. Either way, he was glad practice was only every other day so he could rest his aching muscles.

It’s odd waking up in someone else’s home. He’s never had many friends to spend the night over with in the first place. Yet here he is, lying in the guest room of his friend’s house on a school day, which makes the concept even more foreign. The alarm on the bedside table is blaring for a reason though, and he supposes he should get up and stop staring at the ceiling. He’d texted his mother last night that he doesn’t feel like taking the rest of the week off, even if today is Thursday. For one thing, it would have been weird to stay in Kagami’s home by himself, even if he assured him he's fine with it. Kagami even offered to stay home with him again, but he hadn’t quite been joking when he said Kagami could hardly afford to miss one day; so to kill two birds with one stone he simply elected to attend school per normal.

Something he's also regretting because he’s fairly tempted to just pull the sheets back over his head and let the alarm clock ring itself mute. He’s being weighed down by a bone-deep exhaustion that makes him want to lay in bed all day, maybe forever. He knows it’s not really an option though, so he rolls off of his temporary bed, still swaddled in his borrowed blanket and lands on the plush carpet face-first with a muted thud.

“You okay in there?” Kagami’s voice is muffled through the wall but it isn’t hard to distinguish the words when his room is just next door.

Tetsuya sighs to himself, little more than a puff of breath. “I’m fine!” He hopes that was loud enough to be heard but then again, the alarm is still beeping obnoxiously. Regardless, Kagami isn’t inquiring about his condition any further so he must have been satisfied with his lack of screaming. What if he’d knocked himself out? Not that being unconscious sounded unpleasant at the moment, but he figures getting a new bump to replace yesterday’s can’t do anything good for his brain.

Tetsuya sighs to himself, expelling all the air from his lungs. Kagami’s apartment is a bit closer to Seirin than his house, so he allows himself to think he can afford to waste some time. The room has no windows but he’s sure it’s still dark out, the sun as late to rise in winter as him. He's fairly comfortable wrapped like a burrito, and the floor was a gentle cushion rather than an uncomfortable deterrent like his hard wood floors. Maybe he could stay after all? It’s not like the teacher would notice the difference between him being present, late or absent unless he or Kagami pointed it out.

Tetsuya sighs to himself, loud and long it was better described as a pained moan. He can smell breakfast being prepared from here, the scent of miso soup snaking under the door and finding him in a heap on the ground. He usually isn’t one to be guided by his stomach, milkshakes non-withstanding, but he’s starting to find his lost motivation to function like a normal human being. He hadn’t eaten much yesterday but it seems like all he needed was a good night’s sleep and the loss of will to do anything else to find his appetite. He’s fairly content to remain as he is, but his stomach has other plans. Slowly, he wriggles until his arms are free and drags himself out of confinement. Inching on the carpet like a caterpillar until he’s free of his chrysalis, and able to stretch his arms with his newfound freedom.

He takes his time getting to his feet and preparing for the day, lethargically making the bed and brushing his teeth. Per usual his bedhead is a sight to behold but at least he looks considerably more alive than yesterday morning, his face less deathly grey and tired.

“There you are Kuroko, I was starting to think you changed your mind.” Says Kagami as he sets down the last bowl of rice. “Breakfast is ready.” He adds as he sits down at the table.

Tetsuya joins his teammate and gives his thanks before pulling a bowl soup to himself. “Did you sleep well Kagami-kun?” He almost feels physically ill looking at the amount of food Kagami plans to eat so early in the day, his servings were at least double his. But then again, he supposes he also eats an abnormally small amount of food as well. Still, he can’t understand how Kagami could stomach all that, and then walk to school or even practice.

He grunts around his mouthful of rice and egg before swallowing. “I had a weird dream. I can’t remember the whole thing, but I think Tatsuya’s brain was put into Nigou or something. Like, he had Tatsuya’s eyes and his bangs, and he could even talk and stuff. It was super weird but it got weirder when he started barking at me, and he chased me off a cliff before I woke up I think.”

Tetsuya has to purse his lips to physically restrain himself from spitting out his soup. What a bizarre dream, he can’t even begin to divine whatever message Kagami’s subconscious was supposedly sending. He actually wants to laugh just imagining Tatsuya’s human head attached to Nigou’s body.

“If you’re going to laugh, do it out loud!”

 He doesn’t quite know how to describe the atmosphere they’re sitting in. It’s…comfortable. Light, playful like their walks and it makes him feel strange. He’s used to a brief and quiet breakfast with his grandmother, sometimes just a cup of tea with two slices of toast. It’s simple and serene and centers him like meditation. Today he feels awake, ready to face the day in a different way than he’s used to.

He’s happy.

He’s happy with Kagami, and this moment of domesticity.

They leave their dishes in a sink full of water to be taken care of when they return, since they’re starting to run late. The walk to school is as uneventful as ever but he’s still buzzing from all the change. It’s refreshing to be out of his house but he also misses…he just feels odd. Not bad anymore, but he knows this is temporary so he’s trying to enjoy it.

He feels ready enough to tackle today’s math test, he usually doesn’t study as much as he should but since he ended up reviewing a lot with Kagami yesterday, he’s fairly confident he can score somewhere in the mid to high seventies. While he’s not too worried about himself he just hopes Kagami retained enough of the information they crammed in his head to score above fifty. Luckily the test is after lunch so they have time to squeeze in a few more minutes of refreshers and practice questions, plus they can meet up with the other first years to get some tips since Furihata and Fukuda’s class is taking it before them. Not that they would get the same questions but they could at least tell them what direction the test is probably taking.

The first half of the school day goes well, they say hello to their senpai when they run into Kiyoshi and Izuki on the way to the morning assembly. He easily keeps up in English, and the teacher actually notices his hand is raised to answer a question in Japanese Literature. Social studies is just textbook work and he has fun playing volleyball in PhysEd, even proved to be a decent libero though his arms do sting from catching a few of Kagami’s spikes. Today is just so overwhelmingly positive that it’s almost predictable that his mood is ruined near the end of lunch.  He and Kagami had relocated to their teammates’ homeroom for a quick tutor session, Fukuda just wrapping up his walkthrough of one of the longer formulae when Tetsuya’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket. It’s continuous signaling it’s a phone call, so he ignores his friends’ curious stares as he checked the caller ID.

His mother.

Internally he sighs, but rather than share his displeasure he quickly excuses himself to take the call in the hallway.

“Yeoboseyo?” He greets cautiously. He has an ominous feeling, he’s certain she didn’t call to share good news.

_“Yeoboseyo Tetsuya, are you well today?”_

“Yes mother, thank you for asking. And you?”

She hums into the phone, a curious sound. _“That’s surprising, I noticed you left your coat at home yesterday. You must be freezing, it’s still rather cold outside.”_

“I didn’t realize until I was already at my friend’s house. He lent me his jacket, I’ve been keeping warm.”

He knows she’s frowning, lips lightly pursed. _“If you’re missing important things you should have called me. I could have dropped them off at your friend’s house before I went to work. You need to use your head Tetsuya, it’s winter outside. No one’s going to be home to baby you if you get sick now.”_

No one’s going to be home if he’s healthy either.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

_“There’s no need to apologize, I just worry about you.”_

“I know. Sorry.”

Sorry.

_“Anyways, I didn’t call to scold you, this is about Halmeoni.”_

There it is. Of course she called about Grandmother, why else would she call? Definitely not to check on him-…He has to stop himself, remind himself he’s acting bratty and ungrateful. She just voiced her concerns and he wasn’t happy with that either, it’s wrong to take out his frustrations on her when she’s probably just as stressed out. She’s practically running an entire company, it’s not her fault there’s just not enough time in the day for him too.

_“The funeral is on Saturday at noon, I’ve already started sending out notifications. Halmeoni already had a few things prepared, and we’ve already discussed other details in the past. She also has a will sorted out. She left you some important things, but we’ll discuss your inheritance at a later date.”_

He’s starting to feel sick. He doesn’t care about inheritance, he would still be happy if she left him nothing at all. She left him with nothing at all-

No one-

_“I’ve already dealt with all the paperwork and other arrangements, I just thought you’d like to know what’s going on. I’ll come to your friend’s house tomorrow after school to pick you up, do you have the dog or is it at a kennel?”_

“Nigou, he’s with me. We also have basketball practice tomorrow.”

Not that it’s mandatory anymore but _wait, slow down-_

_“Alright, I’ll see you after that then. We’ll talk more about this at home, have a nice day at school.”_

“Annyeoung.”

_“Bye.”_

Dial tone.

He’s left frozen, phone still pressed to his cheek as the dial tone bleats on for a few moments, then the line ends itself with a cheery sequence of beeps. He can still hear the dial tone ringing though, reverberating in his skull with a flock of other wayward thoughts as he stares blankly at the wall across from him. Funeral. Inheritance. Funeral. She’s really _dead_. He touched her cold, dead corpse and soon he’ll be picking through her ashes-

The sound of the classroom door behind him sliding open startles him.

“Kuroko? You still on the phone? Bell’s going to ring soon. ”

It’s Kagami and it seems like he’s packed up both of their things in preparation to go. Tetsuya lowers his phone and numbly pockets it to take his bag from him. “Yes. Thank you.”

He knows he sounds off, he usually has a rather monotone voice but his cadence is all wrong. He sounds stilted and choppy, that same robotic quality he had after he called 119. After he touched her _body_.

Kagami’s brows furrow. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little sick.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you in class.” Kagami opens his mouth to ask, so just Tetsuya beats him to the punch by saying, “Bathroom.”

He blinks but doesn’t push any further, he looks resigned. “Alright, don’t take too long.”

Tetsuya doesn’t stay to watch him shuffle along, he takes brisk strides to get to the nearest washroom. It’s at the end of the hall and he’s irrationally irritated to see someone’s already in there using a urinal, but he just ignores them and pumps a mound of soap into his palm. It’s the cheap foam kind that he’s sure is more air than antibacterial, but it’s better than nothing. The water is cold and suds are swift to wash away, so he adds more and focuses on lathering his hands. His nails are digging into his skin but it’s relieving, like scratching an itch, the friction warms his freezing flesh and it’s hardly enough pressure to sting.

He’s halted by the bell.

He’s not quite satisfied with how thoroughly he’s scrubbed nor how effective the soap may be, but he doesn’t want to be late. He rinses his hands and doesn’t bother to use the air drier as he rushes to class. The bathroom isn’t even a minute away from his classroom so he’s not worried about being late enough to be locked out, but it would still be unfortunate to lose test time. He slips into the classroom, literally right behind the teacher and closes the door behind him. Earlier he could have laughed at Kagami’s disbelieving face as he seamlessly slips into his seat, his tardy entrance completely undetected.

The redhead glares at him from the corner of his eye. “That’s not fair.” He hears Kagami mutter, but he fully faces the front when the teacher starts handing out stacks of sheets for the front row to hand back.

After Kagami passes him a test, and he passes on the rest of the copies, he realizes he’s completely lost. He’s staring at the sheet with no hope of comprehending what he’s looking at. It’s frustrating because some of these equations were the ones he ran through yesterday, and all the formulae are still in his head but they all look the same. He can’t remember where he’s supposed to use what and he’s beyond frustrated with himself. It’s like he has a full keyring in a room full of locked treasure chests, and the only way to open even one is to try every key.

He only has so much time.

It’s an awful feeling. Knowing he’s probably going to fail something he knows he could have succeed at. He subtly looks around the room and sees Kagami chewing on the end of his mechanical pencil, every now and then stopping to write. He sees some of his other peers look cool and collected while others had fistfuls of their own hair. It’s a bit of a comfort to note that he appears to be in the middle ground between the two. Even if he can’t remember the process he remembers the answers to a few of the questions, so he figures he can reverse engineer the steps to still get full marks. It’s a very flimsy plan, but it’s better than a handing in a blank sheet.

He’s still sifting through his keys and scribbling in educated guesses when the teacher announces they only have ten minutes left. He feels himself getting swept up in the tide of despair that washed over the class at his words. He still hasn’t answered the five questions he’d been avoiding. One half of his mind is panicking, scrambling to remember something useful while the other half has just shut down and is waiting for the test to just be over. All of this leaves no room for actually calculating an answer so he’s left staring at the page, praying for divine intervention. Maybe the page would catch on fire or Nigou would come running in and tear his paper to shreds. Maybe the ghost of a mathematician would suddenly appear and answer the rest of the questions.

Unfortunately, it seems like he isn’t destined to be a shounen protagonist, because no ghost appears before the timer hit zero and the test is being collected. He feels drained. The test didn’t even have any written portions aside from explanations, but it feels like he poured his soul into that sheet, and it left him feeling hollow. He’s ready to go home. They have one more class.

Kagami twists around in his seat as the teacher begins to pack his things. “I forgot to tell you, but Furihata and Fukuda said good luck earlier.”

Yeah. That did a load of good.

He has to remind himself not to be bitter and that they had helped him as much as they could. His failure is his own fault. He has to remind himself that his mother didn’t know about the test, and that she wouldn’t have dumped that on him if she’d known.

~~If she’d asked~~

Has to remind himself that he’s stone-faced, unbreakable, and if he cries over one stupid test he doesn’t even know the results of yet-

“Kuroko?...” The way Kagami trails off, looking at him with a raised brow seems to indicate that he’d missed the appropriate amount of time to answer some question he didn’t hear.

He shakes his head at himself, trying to clear his mind but just rattling more thoughts loose. “Sorry, I’m just…tired. The test…” He doesn’t even quite know what he’s struggling to say, but he’s saved by the next teacher’s arrival.

He’s tired, and ready to leave, but at least it’s art class. He’s never been more thankful to have art scheduled after math because calligraphy is a fantastic way to decompress from all of the numbers. Calligraphy is the unit he’s been looking forward to. He enjoyed it in elementary school and he’s only improved under the tutelage of his grandmother once he told her about his interest.

Which reminds him, he wonders what’s going to happen to her art.

It’ll probably sell at a higher price, as it goes when an artist dies, but he wonders if his parents are going to sell some of her personal pieces to make space. What’s going to happen to her things? He has to shake his head once more to get rid of these thoughts. He’s just going to let his parents worry about it for now, and fret about things later.

The art teacher is a lenient woman, she lets them move their desks into pairs or small groups as long as they’re quiet. Like usual Kagami turns his desk around so they’re face to face and they both take a moment to set up their things. Most of the class is just practicing with the brush to get accustomed to the feel of it, repeating techniques and kanji until the strokes are ingrained. Tetsuya is one of the few in the class who are skilled enough to skip the tutorial lessons, and while the other experienced calligraphers have to make occasional rounds to assist others, the teacher was content to let him stay with Kagami. Not only was his normal writing atrocious, but having him use ink and a brush just made it completely illegible half the time when the words just bleed together, or he accidently tears through the damp paper.

Sometimes he’d use the period to help Kagami with his kanji but he just feels too exhausted and incompetent to teach anyone anything. “I don’t feel like working after that test.” Is all he says, and Kagami seems to deflate in relief.

“Thank god! My brain is fried. I wish I had Midorima’s lucky pencil again.” He gripes as he wets his brush.

He’d totally forgotten about it and he promptly feels like an idiot. Granted it only works on multiple choice questions and its proficiency depends on one’s daily ranking – or so Midorima claimed – but it would have been a comfort to have. Yet rather than sympathize, Tetsuya feels it would be more beneficial if he encourages Kagami to actually know things. “Luck is a fickle thing Kagami-kun, sometimes it even runs out on Midorima-kun.”

The hairs of his brush were once white but with time they had stained to a faint grey colour, leaving only the roots mostly untouched. Whenever he catches a glance of the kits the school provides he becomes immensely glad his father got him a calligraphy set of his own. Their bristles were bent and occasionally shed due to years of abuse and improper maintenance. He would have lent Kagami one of his brushes but the amount of pressure he used to write made him cringe at the thought. Carefully, he caresses the dark surface of the damp inkstone with his tool, the white bristles immediately blackening under it’s touch. He’s not sure if he’ll write or simply doodle the time away, but once the ink touches paper; mars its virgin purity and soaks into the fibers with abandon it cannot be taken back. Pitch black against stark white, calligraphy is an unforgiving art, one hair out of place and the entire work is ruined.

* * *

 

Without practice to keep them afterschool Tetsuya finds himself walking back to the apartment next to Kagami along with the masses.

“It was my mother who called earlier.” He confesses.

Kagami looks over at him in surprise. He’s rarely the one to start conversations between them when they walk, and he probably hadn’t expected him to say that. He’s only confiding in him right now because after all that Kagami’s done for him, it would be incredibly rude to just vanish without forewarning.

“Oh? What about?” His voice is muffled by the gray plaid scarf wound around his neck. Tetsuya could admit he had thin skin when it came to anything more than mild weather, but Kagami probably wears more layers than him in the winter. He seems to handle the heat better if he recalls correctly, most likely the result of living in LA.

“My mother said she’s going to pick me up from your house after practice. The funeral is on Saturday.” He thinks he sounds natural enough, the words don’t feel strained coming out.

“Oh. Well. I hope that goes…well?...That doesn’t sound right…” It doesn’t quite sound right to him either, but he isn’t sure there is an appropriate response to that aside from a noncommittal hum. “So I guess our sleepover is cut short. Or on time I guess, since you never said you were spending the weekend.” Kagami continues to muse to himself.

“I…think I would have liked to.” Tetsuya quietly admits.

Kagami turns to him, that electric grin on his face like he just received a great pass. All teeth, all passion. “Really? Maybe next weekend or something.”

Tetsuya can’t help but smile back, a small but clear upward curl to his lips. “I would like that.”

They lapse into a quiet after that, footsteps muffled by the freshly fallen snow that had rained down during class. The crowd around them has thinned out as everyone goes their separate ways, and soon aside from the students walking on the adjacent street, they are alone.The sky above is grey. All-encompassing and thick, no sign of the sun’s presence aside from the absence of night. Winter has always been his least favourite season. It’s the time of year he’s most vulnerable to ailments. Everything turns hushed, no sound but the howl of the wind and it’s biting cold in answer. Once vibrant greenery is buried and burdened with snow, everything an eye-straining white, a trampled grey, or a soiled brown. It has its beauty, the gem-like quality it bestows on the most mundane of objects, turning twigs into glittering wands. A dusting of confectioner’s sugar that sparkles and floats down from the heavens…

But.

Its stillness is ominous, like nature is holding its breath.

Makes him wonder what’s hiding under sheets of snow that only the warmth of spring can unveil.

Secrets that only time can tell.

He spends the rest of the walk back in mental silence, observing their surroundings without any further monologue. The loft of the building is just as warm and welcoming as when he first arrived, the elevator ride just as smooth. Not that he expected any deviation from the other times they’d taken this path from Kagami’s apartment to the school, but there is security in consistency, especially in a new environment.

“What do you want for dinner? Since it’s your last night I wanna make something good.”

He doesn’t even take a moment to contemplate. “Anything is fine.”

Kagami scowls in response to his thoughtless answer. “For such a straightforward guy, it sure is hard to get a straight answer out of you.”

* * *

 

Friday, his last day in Kagami’s home is almost…sacred.

He opens his eyes to a dark room, windowless, but his body tells him its morning and a glimpse at the clock confirms. Stares at the textured ceiling with a sense of finality, really feels like a man living his last day on earth. The alarm starts beeping and it’s more like the beginning of the countdown than the last of his time. They eat breakfast in soft quiet with dawn threatening to spill over the table in blue hues, dishes left in the sink for Kagami to clean without fuss. They walk to school with their practice bags and the gym is warm by the time they get there. Even Kiyoshi-senpai is present today, resting on the sidelines but helping Riko and acting good-natured as always. Morning practices are always easy, never more strenuous than a warmup but it centers him, another check point of his day. He and Kagami do talk in class and during lunch, but conversation is fleeting because Tetsuya just doesn’t feel like indulging him with responses. Thankfully Kagami understands he isn’t being ignored, and is content with talking at him rather than with him for today.

Afterschool practice is hard work. All sweat and trembling muscle, training as if they have a game next week, but he supposes Riko can read their energy. She must be able to feel the electricity that’s buzzing under everyone’s skin, for one reason or another. All day he’s sort of been…asleep. Going through the motions but everything feels different. He can recall the whole day but each distinct event sort of bleeds together, speeds by, and drips between his fingers like water cupped in his hands. The air is crisp on the walk to the apartment, dense and unnaturally still.

Silent.

Not even the wind whispers and the sidewalks have been cleared leaving cement under their boots, the near soundless scuffing and crunch of road salt under their feet seems to echo. Kagami looks nervous and uncomfortable. His eyes are darting every which way chasing the shadows that shift under the setting sun, and they always seem to lead back to Tetsuya judging by the frequent glances he keeps sending his way. He’s not quite sure what makes this moment so different from all the others, the atmosphere is just heavy.

Things unsaid are looming over them.

As soon as they get in he heads directly to the guest room, intent on pack his few belonging. The canine isn’t barking for attention and dragging his leash around, so he interprets that as Nigou not needing urgent care. He only has about an hour until his mother shows up and it will still be early enough to take Nigou for a walk when he gets home. He crams his things into his bag as haphazardly as he’d originally packed them and carelessly drops it off by the door to pick up on the way out. He never really took the time to properly settle in, but he feels obligated the refold the sheets, remembers to cancel the bedside alarm and generally straightens out the already clean room.

Once there’s nothing left to fidget with in there, he resigns himself to waiting. His stall tactics have fallen just short of effective leaving him with time to spare, but not enough to start a new activity. He sees Kagami sitting at the table snacking on a plate full of apple slices, scrolling on some social media site judging by his half lidded eyes and the careless flick of his thumb across the screen that shows he’s merely skimming the content. Without a word Tetsuya joins him, stealing a piece of fruit for himself and just stares at the table. The clear balcony window next to them has a breathtaking view, the smoldering sunset shimmering along the cityscape as windows and snow reflect it. The sun has lowered like a ripened fruit on the end of its branch, spilling its dying rays like a vibrant red juice all over the room as it spatters against the earth. His pale skin stains easily, colours blood red in the light.  

The scrape of the dish as it’s pushed towards him is the only form of acknowledgement that Kagami supplies, but it's more than enough, it’s perfect. For all the silences they’ve shared there’s something special about this one. Something memorable, something valuable, something almost tangible in the air like the dust motes glowing in the dwindling radiance.

His phone vibrates in his pocket distracting him from his inspection of the table’s wood grain, and the sweet apple in his mouth still tastes just as sweet when he reads that his ride is here.

He clears his throat as to not startle Kagami, he breaks the quiet and scares off whatever enchanted the moment. “My mother has arrived.”

Kagami sets down his phone to really look at him, and Tetsuya looks at him in return. They’re both glowing but Kagami looks otherworldly, on fire and completely in his element with a warm smile on his face. “Ah. I guess this is it huh?”

“I’m not moving away Kagami-kun, I’ll see you on Monday.” Really, they were being so dramatic.

His smile turns sheepish, his teeth catching the glow. “I know, but it was pretty cool rooming with you.”

He really shouldn’t keep her waiting.

He stands slowly, his joints silently creaking as if they’d completely oxidized while he sat, and Kagami rises with him to walk him out.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” He folds over into a bow, remaining bent for a bit too long for casualty to relay his gratitude.

He feels Kagami put a hand on his shoulder, can feel the warmth of his palm through his long-sleeve shirt. “Geeze, you cleaned everything so it’s not like you were a freeloader. I’ll come down to the lobby with you.”

He straightens up. “You really don’t need to Kagami-kun.” He tries to insist as he heads for the door, but the redhead is stubborn.

“I’m coming with you.” He's being stared down by the larger teen, and while he isn’t intimidated in the slightest he can see Kagami isn’t going to budge on the issue.

“…Alright.”

They leave the apartment without coats, he’s wrapped in only a sweater because it’s all he came with and Kagami isn’t leaving the building. The thin carpeting of the hallway is pine green and the wall a bland beige with lighter tan designs to subtly accent, some generic pattern that is supposed to give off a posh air. He feels like a prisoner being matched to their death. He’s not sure why Kagami insisted on carrying his bag again, and Nigou is following in his own violation which leaves his hands uncomfortably empty, so he takes the initiative to open doors and push buttons. His stomach falls through his feet during the elevator ride, filled with dread and weighed down like lead. They make it to the spacious lobby without delay and Nigou is dancing around his legs at the sight of freedom, but discipline keeps him from wildly running about. Kagami looks unsure of what to do now.

“So…” He trails off.

Tetsuya takes mercy on him and holds out a hand in request for his bag. “I’ll see you on Monday, at practice.” He reminds him as he curls his fingers around the strap.

“Yeah. See you then.” Kagami’s smiling again. He’s not blazing ethereally like earlier but there are flames flickering in his eyes, determination the tinder that always keeps the embers burning hot. “Take care of yourself Kuroko. You’re welcome at my place anytime.” And then he holds out a fist.

For a split second he’s transported back to the apartment, Kagami’s face softened by celestial luminance and tranquility fogs his senses like an incense. He meets Kagami half way and gently bumps their knuckles together.

“See you then, Kagami-kun.”

This is it, the other boot that has been looming over his head all day. He has to force himself not to look back as he walks away, leaving him to wonder what kind of expression Kagami is making. It’s dark outside but he easily locates his mother by the vehicle’s headlights cutting through the night, and the frigid wind claws at him the second the automatic doors part.

It was a nice dream while it lasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Prologue!  
> Yes. Prologue. An almost 17K word long prologue. We haven’t even started the main plot yet, this has barely scratched everything that I have planned out. Oh gosh, hope you guys are in for the long haul ε-(´・｀). I hope this chapter was worth waiting for.


	4. Scleroderma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Scleroderma is an autoimmune, rheumatic, and chronic disease that affects the body by hardening connective tissue.  (“Connective tissue” is widespread.  It adds strength to organs and other parts of the body.)  Connective tissue is made of many kinds of proteins.  Among them is collagen of the skin.  Scleroderma literally means hard skin._  [(hopkinsscleroderma.org)](https://www.hopkinsscleroderma.org/scleroderma/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...so...am I five days late, or two days early? You guys ever think about it like that?...No? Yeah me neither, I’m so sorry! I was unexpectedly busy and had a bit of writers block with this chapter but I swear I tried! I’ve never been great with deadlines anyways but I try for you guys. I’m so so so flattered by the responses I got from the last chapter and I’m worried I won’t always write the same quality. I’m not 100% on the beginning of this chapter but you’ve waited long enough and I don’t have anything I want to replace it with, so if it’s a bit off to you I’m sorry but it smooths out.

Home.

The word rings hollow, as meaningless as parroting a word from a foreign language.

Home.

The place he ran from.

Home.

Empty until his mother walks in ahead of him and turns on the lights. Everything appears to be as he left it, but he can’t see the living room from here. “Your father said not to wait up for him. There was a flight delay and he’ll be home around two in the morning.” His mother informs him from deeper within the house. He’s still by the door, toeing off his old boots and places them next to his newer pair as a reminder to toss them later.

“Okay.” He calls back as he hitches his bag higher on his shoulder. Nigou vanished the moment the front door was cracked open enough for him to squeeze through, probably reacquainting himself with the space, investigating new scents.

He keeps his eyes on his feet as he walks to his room, passing the living room as he goes by without a glance. He doesn’t want to see, have it all thrown in his face again. He doesn’t bother unpacking now that he has access to other articles of clothing, just dumps the bag in a corner of his room and contemplates walking Nigou as promised. It really wouldn’t be fair to the dog if he just went to sleep, but…He has to look away from his bed before he decides to lay down and, _‘just close his eyes for a minute.’_

He doesn’t know where Nigou is, but it doesn’t matter when he comes barreling towards him, called by the jingle of his leash. He so excited that it’s a bit of a task getting his harness clipped on but once the puppy settles a bit, he makes quick work of hooking him up, sparking a new round of exhilaration. He almost wishes Nigou would stay a cute little puppy, but he also really loves big dogs so it’s not a loss anyway. The veterinarian had said Nigou’s adult size likely be quite large since he seems to lean more towards his malamute heritage, with the exception of his blue eyes, a husky’s trademark. He’d never heard of an alusky before, but when the veterinarian showed him some pictures he knew he wanted at least two more.

“I’m going out to walk Nigou.” He doesn’t have to raise his voice by much for his words to carry.

“Why? It’s dark out, just let him out into the backyard and pick up after him.” From the echoing quality of her voice as it reverbs through the hallway, he can guess that his mother is working in her office. Organizing documents and writing up emails in addition to other business things he knows nothing about. He found it odd that she was able to leave work early enough to pick him up, but it seems like she just relocated.

“That’s what I did yesterday, he’s restless.”

A pause.

“Alright, make sure you have your cellphone.”

Technically, he’d been walking him around the apartment complex. He wasn’t familiar with the area so he didn’t feel comfortable wandering around the neighbourhood, so he’d resorted to going in circles even after Kagami grudgingly offered to guide him. Being set loose in the backyard and going around the block seems to be all the same to Nigou, but Tetsuya is the one who needs to stretch his legs. Not even ten minutes in the house and he feels restless.

It feels empty.                                                                                                                                           

As cozy as Kagami’s oversized coat was, it was also kind of cumbersome. It’s nice to wear his full set of winter gear, covered head to toe in apparel that actually fits him. Just as his mother had said, its dark outside. If one didn’t know the time it wouldn’t have been hard to believe its past midnight. Streetlights and uncurtained windows are the only things that keeps the darkness at bay, pockets of light that line the sidewalk intermittently. It’s quiet, windy. Considerably more cold without the sun’s invisible presence.

Nigou wastes no time to begin rolling in the snow, occasionally stopping to snap at it as if it’s wrestling back. It’s cute. He hops out of the snowbank coated in the white powder, shaking off the substance with a medium amount of success. It was inevitable that he was going to have to towel off Nigou’s paws of snow before he tracked water all over the house, but it would have been nice if the rest of him stayed relatively dry.

He’s heard the weather in Russia can get iffy, he just hopes his father doesn’t get home any later. Tomorrow is going to be long and grueling; jetlag on top of it is going to leave him a mess. He can’t imagine what’s going through his father’s head right now. He knows he would be devastated if he lost his mother, but their relationship isn’t as complicated as his father’s with Halmeoni.

No one ever shares exact details about the past, but he knows enough that it’s best to not ask too many questions.

He knows when to keep quiet, keep his head down, keep his eyes closed.

Nigou is pulling at the leash, prompting Tetsuya to keep moving.

* * *

 

 

His face is numb by the time they make it back inside. The wind had unfortunately picked up and when he saw that even Nigou was shifting from paw to paw in discomfort, he took that as a clear sign to pick up the canine and walk home in hopes of protecting him from the worst of it. They were only out there for about twenty minutes for so, but it feels like a homecoming all over again. It’s going to take time to transition from house back to home.

“I’m back!” He announces as he undresses, outerwear dusted with snow that wets the front mat as he removes each piece.

As expected, she’s still down the hall. “Welcome back Tetsuya. There’s leftovers in the fridge for dinner.”

“Alright. Thank you.” There’s not much for him to wipe off between the furnace thawing his fur and Nigou shaking himself clean, but he gives him a good rub down to warm him up and cleans up the mess they made on the floor with the same towel. As soon as he’s freed Nigou takes off, likely to warm up some more in his bed while Tetsuya ventures to the kitchen. He looks at the living room. It’s different.

It’s not like the walls were repainted or photos replaced, even the same glass coffee table he tripped over is still sitting there innocuously. It’s the couches that are new, and it makes all the difference. The old ones were worn, comfortably lived in and if the cushions had a stain or two on the underside, that was a secret between he and his grandmother. He’s not too familiar with fabrics but they were tan and soft, the small woven texture of the material always left an imprint of his face when he fell asleep on it. They were comfortable and housed as many memories as they did lint and pocket change.

They were gone.

There were couches before them and there will be newer one to replace this set some time in the future, but the memories. Those are gone with the black scuffmarks left by the couch legs on the hard wood floor, from when they shifted and groaned under his weight when he jumped from cushion to cushion. The new ones do look nice, leather a shade of pine green – how authentic the material, he doesn’t know - that’s easy on the eyes. He doesn’t know how to feel about them. Yes, they look nicer but he really should have tried to give his opinion on her selection. Leather is unforgiving. Its ice cold until it leeches warmth from his flesh or it’s a searing hot pan, ready to burn his skin and peel it off him if he lays unprotected for too long. He doubts his mother had really given thought to his woes since she’ll rarely take the time to experience them herself though. They look nice, and that’s all that matters when that’s all one has time for.

One day, he’ll grow to like them. The cushions will turn lumpy and malleable as they saturate with new memories, the leather will wrinkle and soften with use. But for now they remain foreign and unyielding, and so does he as he moves on to the kitchen determined to eat before going to bed.

He’s not too hungry, just a light snack before he turns in for the night. In his absence the contents of the fridge have changed a bit as his mother consumed and replaced the food. For a moment he’s confused when he sees his lunchbox in the fridge, there’s no school tomorrow and Kagami had been kind enough to make a bento for him during his stay as well. Then it hits him. It’s the lunch he didn’t take on Wednesday.

The food his grandmother made for him.

She usually put it together the night before and leaves it in the fridge for him to take to school in the morning. Carefully, as if it’s an ancient relic he pulls it off the shelf and sets it on the table with reverence. It’s been sitting there for about three days but he’s eaten older foodstuff. Besides, nothing short of mold is going to stop him from eating this. He’s just glad his mother hadn’t taken the time to clean out the fridge.

It’s tuna kimbap, nine rolls arranged in the box three-by-three. It’s really not that different from the sushi Kagami made yesterday but Halmeoni made it, and that makes it infinitely more special. How many lunches like this has he taken for granted? There’s a small container of strawberries in the bag as well, leafy tops removed and sliced in half with practiced precision but they’re dried and some parts have shriveled. It’s not moldy, but he’s willing to admit he doesn’t really want to test his luck, it’s not like she did anything but wash and cut them. He can let go of that much. Normally she would also add a thermos of tea but she usually prepared that in the morning, handing it off to him with a kiss on the forehead and a goodbye.

There’s a set of chopsticks in the bag as well. They’re made of red-stained lacquered wood with little blue flowers painted on by the handle end of the sticks. They feel cool in his hands, chilled by the refrigerated air and his grip feels insecure around their smooth surface. It’s a bit of a struggle detach a single piece when the rolls have also started to stick together due to time and proximity, but he manages to pluck out the first piece with minimal damage. Just a week ago, he would have said it tasted alright. Nothing to brag about, not his grandmother’s finest work, a little bit stale due to its age. But right now, it tastes like Love and like Home. Slightly dried tuna, soggy seaweed and thin bits of vegetable, flaccid and chewy.

Perfect.

It tastes like the time she taught him how to cook rice, and she didn’t get mad when he burned the whole pot. Reminds him of all the snacks he shared with Shi- Ogiwara-kun, the suppers he enjoyed with his family. All things he’ll never experience again, will never be able to recreate except for in his memories because she’s _gone_. He’s not even hungry anymore and one of the four kimbap rolls left has fallen apart into a small mess of ingredients, but he scrapes it together an forces it down because it’s all he has left.

_‘Here today, gone tomorrow.’_

He thinks he could give up milkshakes for more.

He just dumps the now empty container and chopcticks in the sink. Usually he’d pack them into the dishwasher or just hand wash them himself but he’s tired and full. If his mother is upset by the mess then he can deal with it in the morning. His eyelids feel heavy and his eyes burn as he shuffles to his bed, the floor feels almost warm beneath his cold feet as they drag him along. He passes his mother’s office, still hears the _click-click_ of her nails against the keyboard as she types. It’s still not really that late yet, but he hopes she decides to go to sleep soon as well. He hopes his father comes home sooner than expected, he still hopes this is all a dream but he’s slept and woken up enough times to know its reality.

Not that Kagami’s apartment was anything but luxurious - if not minimalistic – but there’s nothing more comforting than one’s own bed. The linen is cool and familiar, his fatigue multiplies as he pulls back the sheets and all sorts of aches make themselves known as he lays down. He’s drained, but sleep doesn’t come easy.

 

* * *

 

He’s startled awake.

His room is still pitch black and the house is dead silent so it can’t be morning yet. He doesn’t know what woke him but his return to consciousness is punctuated by a sharp gasp and his heart pounding away as if he’d just sprinted back to bed before he could fully awaken. Likely a nightmare. Contrary to his assumption however, he hears a noise, a muted but solid _thud_ of something heavy being set down.

He’s too exhausted to jump to conclusions so if they really are being robbed, he’s fully prepared to go back to sleep. But then he also remembers that his father is scheduled to return at the dead of night, and figures it would be nice to greet him if he’s already up and help him settle in.

With a quiet groan he rolls out of bed and lands on his feet with a slight stumble. The hinges of his bedroom door creek as he eases it open, and in the stillness it’s as loud as a shout. It seems as though his father turned on a light or two in order to see what he’s doing, so once he steps into the hall he has no issues getting to the front door.

He…he has mixed emotions as he watches his father hang his coat. On one hand it’s good to see him again, yes he’s missed him but…they aren’t quite close enough for him to feel really upset about his frequent trips, or deeply relieved by his presence. He assumes it’s what having a more familiar uncle feels like, regularly dropping by to visit, here today and gone tomorrow.

His hair has gotten a bit longer, now falls in messy black waves just past his ears. Half of his face is shadowed with stubble, the other with exhaustion. “Welcome home.” The words drift out of his mouth softly, but his father flinches in surprise as if it’s an attack.

As soon as they lock eyes however, blue meeting blue, he thaws and a fond look warms his eyes. “Tetsuya. You scared me, I thought you both went to bed.”

“We did. I woke up when I heard you come in.” He says as he takes one of his father’s bags. One of the larger ones, but thankfully it has wheels. If he recalls correctly this is the one he likes to keep his equipment in, so it should be fine if he just leaves it to the side.

“Ah, sorry then. Go back to bed. I’ll take care of everything here.” His father then tousles his hair, an odd gesture to receive from him, but he doesn’t rebuke the action and accepts the affection.

His hair is definitely a mess. “I’m already awake, I don’t mind.”

He’s given a disapproving stare for his effort, and the way his father’s eyes lid is reminiscent of Halmeoni. “It’s almost three in the morning, we have to be up at nine and at the venue for ten-thirty. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

Technically today, but who’s counting.

If there’s anyone out there who consistently wears a better poker face than him, it’s rightfully his father. One would think it would give them an edge, give them something in common to open the channels between them but it actually widens the gap most times. They can’t get a read on each other. Usually tonality, eye contact, and body language are key to navigating the turbulent waters of communication, but when one of them shuts down it leaves the other floundering before they both close off and are left at in impasse.

They don’t phone each other often.

Right now, he can’t tell if this is a moment to give or take. Should he insist on helping so his father can go to sleep, or is his patience short due to exhaustion and its best to listen? He can’t help but yawn and the decision is taken from his hands.

“Go to sleep. I’m not going to bed tonight, my sleep schedule is f- messed up. I’ll rest after everything is done.” He certainly looks wide awake, but Tetsuya is more worried about a few hours from now. “I’ll be fine. I’m used to all-nighters.”

It makes his insides twist, but he knows his father isn’t lying about that. “Alright. See you in the morning.” He turns to walk back to dreamland with an odd feeling of disappointment, but he’s halted by his father calling out to him.

“Sorry, almost forgot.” He watches curiously as his father rifles through one of the outer pockets on one of his suitcases and pulls out a package that’s roughly larger than his hand, and crudely giftwrapped in newspaper. “Happy birthday. A souvenir from Kazan. Sorry I missed the actual day.”

His father sounds properly contrite but the reminder stings like an ant bite. Oh well, he can’t control the flight schedules. He’s never heard of Kazan before but then again, he isn’t familiar with Russia beyond Moscow and Sochi. He silently closes the distance between them, accepting the gift graciously. “Thank you very much. I know you would have liked to be home.” Not enough to switch jobs, but- selfish.

“You’re welcome kiddo.”

Kiddo. He’s not fond of that name at all.

He didn’t notice his father put on a hint of a smile until his face flat-lines again. “Goodnight.”

Perhaps his distaste had shown. “Goodnight. Love you.”

He receives a nod. “I love you too Tetsuya.”

He turns away once again but this time there is no interruption. He still feels that simmering disappointment, like a kettle replaced onto a stovetop but it’s bubbling with less intensity. He’ll unwrap the present in the morning, when he’s less tired and in the right frame of mind to really appreciate it in the light. It’s a short trip back to bed and even under the protection of his blanket he shudders at a sudden chill.

He falls back asleep. 

 

* * *

 

He feels dread in his stomach before he opens his eyes. It makes him feel physically ill, nervous enough to clench his fists into the sheets and breathes heavily in hopes it’ll just vanish. He’s not sure if he’s actually sick or if it’s purely psychological but he feels awful and wrung out. As usual it appears his sleep was fitful, his unconscious movements ensnaring him in his blanket and tousling his hair like he slept through a hurricane. To quote Aomine, he knows he _looks like a super saiyan,_ without even having to look in a mirror _._

Bit by bit he cracks his eyes open, looks around blearily until the outline of his nightstand comes into focus. He doesn’t know what time it is but the room is still fairly dark. Not that it means much this time of year, when darkness prevails for most hours of the day but it’s good to know it’s not past eight. He wants to check his phone for the time but from its place on his side table he’s skeptical that he can reach it without moving anything but his arm. It’s a pain, but he props himself up on his elbows and grabs the device. It was definitely a strain and it certainly would have been less work to sit up and grab it with a secure grip, rather than the tentative hold he had on the corner with two fingers, but it’s the principle of the thing.

5:26AM.

Disgusting.

Saturday, February the 11th.

Without a doubt, today is the day.

He doesn’t think he can fall back asleep but he’s not ready to get out of bed either. He just closes his eyes and stews in the malignant sensation still simmering in his gut. Anxiety, he realises belatedly. It’s been a while since the feeling has coiled around his lungs but it’s definitely familiar, like a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in a while. It’ll fade in a few minutes if he distracts himself.

Ah. The package. His father came home last night. This morning.

It’s all the way on his desk, but curiosity and a need for something to keep him busy prompts him to leave the soft comfort of his bed. His feet feel particularly sensitive as they lightly stick to the cool wood flooring, the lines and grooves leaving invisible impressions on his skin. The lighting still isn’t great even with his small lamp on, but its rather unskillful packaging is even less impressive without the haze of drowsiness to skew his perception. Most of its surface is glossy with tape and lumpy with crumpled paper. Perhaps whatever it is would have been better off hidden in a bag, but he could at least appreciate the effort behind it and enjoy the aesthetic of Russian newsprint. He sits down on the edge of his bed before he begins to analyze the best way to unwrap it with the least amount of damage to the paper. With this much tape on it however, it seems like he’s just going to have to hope there’s a few layers of untouched print underneath, because there’s no other way to get through the tape but to destroy the paper. Honestly, this is why his mother handles gifts when it comes to holidays and other occasions.

The sound of paper ripping is deafening in the ringing silence of the early morning. It makes him stay his hand and listen to his heart thud in his ears as he waits for footsteps in response. He’s not sure what he’s so worried about when it’s unlikely the sound is even audible through his door, nor would anyone bother to investigate, but he can’t help but cringe at the contrast in volume when compared to the previous quiet. A bit slower this time, he continues peeling away the wrapping and to his muted delight, there is more newspaper underneath with much less adhesives if any. Though he becomes much less interested in the foreign writing when he catches a glimpse of something black and glossy. He swears to god if it’s some sort of porcelain cup...he’s going to keep it on his special shelf of course because he’s certain it’s beautiful at the very least, but of all things to bring home they have more than enough pottery.

It’s a husky. A wooden matryoshka doll with a black and white husky painted on it, to be exact. It’s gorgeous, and he’s eager to see what else is inside. A slightly smaller Golden Retriever, followed by a German Shepard, then what he assumes is a Doberman, and finally a little Pomeranian. It’s just so delightful he can’t help but smile to himself as he admires the fine brushwork and colour palate that details the fur. His grandmother would have loved it too.

Maybe she’d given his father some advice. Usually his father brought back rather generic souvenirs like maple candies from Quebec, a novelty voodoo doll from New Orleans, rocks from Icelandic cliffs and shells from Trinidadian beaches. All very pretty with interesting facts and lore attached to them, but nothing he really felt personally attached to. It would be a shame if they were lost but it wouldn’t be hard to get more.

He absolutely adores this gift though. Carefully he folds the relatively undamaged sheet of newspaper into a square and places it on the second-to-top shelf on his bookcase, just next to his desk. Lines up each matyoshka dog from largest to smallest at the front so it’s the most visible item amongst the other trinkets. Perfect.

With a satisfied hum he steps back to admire them. The room feels a little more homely. Content with his new décor he pulls a book at random from his collection and flops onto his bed. _The Mist_ by Stephen King sits comfortably in his hands, worn pages familiar and their musty odor quells any remaining anxieties like an incense banishing spirits. He’s going to be okay.

He manages to pass the hours by reading and by the time it’s eight-thirty, he’s ready for breakfast and willing to get up for it. Tetsuya is surprised to hear the television murmuring softly from down the hall as soon as he opens his bedroom door. Some news program about the PM’s latest statement with anchors talking over one another to say their piece in a heated debate. As his father said, he’s sitting comfortably in the new couches paying more attention to his tablet than the TV, but undeniably awake.

“Annyeong haseyo appa.” He greets quietly, yet his father is startled by his appearance again.

His father lets out a sign of relief, relaxing back into the couch. He looks more worn than earlier, pale even under the soft orange of the lamp. “Annyeong haseyo Tetsuya. It’s going to take some time to get used to that again.”

He doesn’t really have anything to say in response to that, they probably won’t be spending enough time together for such a thing to occur anyways. Instead he continues on to the kitchen intent on eating some toast before they have to leave. As he’s puttering around the kitchen, dropping his two slices into the toaster he hears his mother before he sees her breeze into the kitchen.

“Annyeong haseyo, boys.” She says in a grave tone. She looks immaculate as usual, even with her long hair in mild disarray and dressed in her rumpled T-shirt and pajama pants. “Your suit is on your bed.” She says as she fills the kettle and then turns on the stovetop. “Tsukiyo, I also pulled out yours. You’ll have to help me with my kimono.” She calls to his father loud enough to be heard, and then sets down the kettle to heat.

“Good morning Chiyume. Alright, thank you.” His father shouts back.

“Good morning mother.” Tetsuya chimes in, still watching the toaster. They usually switch between languages at home, mostly Korean with the odd string of Japanese if the words come easier. It’s nice to see that hasn’t changed even without his grandmother. His father shuffles in holding a white mug with little red koi fish hand painted on the side. It’s one Halmeoni painted for fun, not part of a set or a prototype. His father kisses her on the cheek and sits at the table before taking another sip from his cup.

She quirks an eyebrow at him, thin and arching against her pale skin like a blue bird’s wing to the cloudy sky. “That doesn’t smell like coffee. Don’t you think it’s too early for this?”

His father kind of shrugs, hunches over into himself and draws the mug closer. “It’s two AM in Kazan.” He mutters almost childishly, and his impassive expression is a juxtaposition to his tone.

“Hm, and it’s almost nine AM in Japan. I can’t believe you’re drinking first thing in the morning.” Her arms are crossed and she looms over his father with ease as he’s sitting at the table.

Unfazed however, his gives her a small but charming smile. “It’s not morning until I go to sleep.”

She closes her eyes and touches the bridge of her nose with a pained expression, the kind of look he’s used to being aimed at him but it’s more like a fond expression in this situation. “Ugh. We’re going to be burying you next at this rate. Just…no more. Drink some water, eat something.” She shakes her head and turns off the stove. The water’s boiling.

His toast is slightly burnt.

Nothing butter can’t fix.

  

* * *

  

The suit is distinctly uncomfortable and his hair feels far too heavy with all the styling gel his mother combed into it. The hair on the left side of his head was slicked back while the rest was swept to the right in a fashion that reminded him of a greaser, and stiff enough that nary a strand was displaced by the wind. Halmeoni always said he looked handsome with his hair like this, and his mother agreed. The tie around his neck isn’t strangling him but fastened flush around his neck, not a noose but a collar to remind him he’s to be on his best behaviour. Black suit, black pants, black shoes, black tie, and a black pinstripe dress shirt to mix it up. The funeral is taking place in an older building but it’s by no means decrepit, with high arching ceilings and grand windows keeping the space open and bright. It’s not a large venue by any means but it’s perfect for this rather small affair. All along the white walls and displayed on little tables are different pieces of art, beautiful tea sets that Halmeoni had designed or hand painted herself. Cups and teapots full of memories, cracks, chips, and gold lacquer.

Guests will be arriving soon, in five minutes or so and his parents are still talking to the funeral director discussing the details and making sure everything is right. He’s left waiting near the entrance by himself praying that one of his parents will return before someone comes, because he really doesn’t want to field conversations alone and awkwardly accept their condolences. The guest list mainly consists of family friends, like the old women his grandmother played Go and gossiped with over tea and sweets. Their children and grandchildren who would accompany them, and who Tetsuya was mildly acquainted with as a by-product. The Kuroko’s were a very small family, he had no paternal aunts or uncles and he’s never met his grandfather; he’s not even sure if the man is still alive. He abandoned her and his father years before he was born and neither side has tried to reconnect as far as he’s aware.

Then, to his surprise Halmeoni also requested for his old teammates to be invited. They had visited his house a few times in middle school to study or hang out, but he hadn’t realized she became this fond of them. They had never had the chance to meet his parents yet, but Halmeoni was always home and happy to meet her grandson’s new friends, oh so relieved he found companionship physically closer than Ogiwara after he moved.

She knew they had a falling out and she was watching the last game of the Winter Cup online to see it all start to come back together. She was happy to see them all gathered for his sixteenth birthday, acting like friends again. He’s so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the first guest has arrived until they blind him, large warm calloused palms blocking his sight.

He knows only one person who would do this. It’s an action so nostalgic, so painfully familiar it makes him almost teeter back into a sudden trust fall. He knows he would be safely caught, then berated for being so careless as he’s set upright.

They sighs impatiently by his ear, a puff of warm breath that smells like strawberry jam. There’s probably a bit on the corner of his mouth.

“You’re supposed to guess, stupid.”

A smile. A real smile that threatens to crack his stony expression and allow giggles to spill out is creeping along his face. He feels giddy, relieved, nervous, but it’s going to be okay. “Alright, are you stupid?”

“Argh!” The blindfold is turned into a vice grip around his skull that playfully squishes his cheeks. “You know that’s not what I meant! God, good to know your sense of humour is still at a fourth grade level. Gimme a hug.”

As soon as he’s released he turns around to be captured in an embrace. “I missed you…Ogiwara-kun.” He feels arms around him stiffen before they squeeze him tighter.

“I missed you too…Kuroko.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a real problem about accuracy and realism. I have to keep telling myself it’s fanfiction when I get really sidetracked about the GoM instantly assembling, cause do you know how far Akita and Kyoto are from Tokyo and each other??? (there are planes from Akita to both!) and how expensive train tickets are??? (sorry sidetracked again.)  
> You guys probably don’t even see a quarter of the research I put into each chapter oml, how 911 calls go (119 in Japan), the illnesses for chapter summaries (Yes, they aren’t random), Korean greetings and other tidbits (correct me if I’m ever wrong), funeral rites in both countries (btw I know there’s usually a wake period where the family stays with the deceased’s body all night in turns, and there’s money from guests and return gifts at a portion of the value of money given, and don’t get me started on the chants and naming.) There’s just so much and I’m not familiar enough with Japanese customs to go into it with detail, so forgive me for some omissions and westernizations in this and the following chapters.  
> )-(o
> 
> *pants*
> 
> Ogiwara, is now on the scene. See you guys in another two weeks
> 
>  
> 
> ~~Ihope~~


	5. Phantom Limb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Phantom limb syndrome **,** the ability to feel sensations and even pain in a limb or limbs that no longer exist. Phantom limb syndrome is characterized by both nonpainful and painful sensations."_ ([Britannica.com](https://www.britannica.com/topic/phantom-limb-syndrome))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early update! Happy Mother’s day and a shout-out to anyone who’s not celebrating! Hope you have a good day regardless! Idk what happened this week guys, I was just super productive I guess. I’m almost 3K deep into a big AoKuro BNHA!AU oneshot which will not be done for 2K17 Aokuro Week (btw, amazing job to anyone who participated!), I finished this chapter on like Wednesday and I went back and edited the first two chapters of this fic. It took me like two days the change them both to present tense and just generally clean it up, I’m fried but it’s worth it. No big changes but if you need to re-read for a refresher/want to see the new tidbits I think it’s worth skimming. Huge thanks to everyone who loved and supported the first versions, I wouldn’t have written this much without you! <3 (Oh, mind the new slow build tag, this fic might be a little slow plot-wise.)
> 
> Also ngl, all of your encouragement has given me too much power. Now I’m just cramming in as many headcanons as possible.
> 
> Warning: Vomit mention

Three years is a long time.

It feels even longer as Shige takes in Tetsuya's - Kuroko’s, he reminds himself - new appearance. Sure he caught a glimpse of him at the Winter Cup, but he was still so far away and dashing around the court, weaving around larger athletes and vanishing from view.

And what a change that is. He saw some of Kuroko’s new basketball durring Nationals their second year of middle school, but it’s grown much more than what Kuroko had cryptically described through texts. From what he saw in the last few minutes of the Winter Cup, he found a way to incorporate his lack of presence into basketball so well it put him on-par with the Michael Jordans of high school. He remembers when Kuroko couldn’t play tag all recess without risk of an asthma attack, and now he’s playing high-intensity basketball for quarters at a time.

This kid is far too modest, and it would make him want to shake him if it wasn’t so endearing.

He’s also taller, that much was always expected to happen but his shoulders are broader. His hair looks a bit longer and a few shades darker, though he can’t be sure by how much when it’s so heavily styled. As soon as he enters the building he sees Kuroko just standing there a bit further inside the lobby, staring at the parking lot through one of the grand windows, clearly stuck in his head. Maybe he has no right to act so familiarly, but he can’t help but fall into old patterns when they’ve shared so many moments like this. He doesn’t bother sneaking, he knows Kuroko can’t hear a thing when he’s thinking this hard. It’s a bit different since they’re closer in height, but just like old times Kuroko is ironically startled by his not-so-sudden appearance.

This part is new.

Rather than pulling himself free or saying _‘Hello Shige-kun,’_ with warm patience, he’s just standing there silently. He can't even imagine whats going through Kuroko's mind right now. He can feel lashes tickling his palm as Kuroko closes his eyes and he’s not sure what this all means.

Well, he’s not being shoved away or elbowed in the gut so he might as well test the waters some more.

“You’re supposed to guess, stupid.” Not that there’s anything left to think about now that he’s spoken.

“Alright, are you stupid?” He has to pause for a moment. This guy. What a brat. But jokes are good, he can’t be too mad if he’s willing to banter. He notices that Kuroko’s cheeks are less chubby as he squishes them, and his jawline is more defined. Not as square as his father’s but he’s definitely staring to grow out of his androgyny.

“You know that’s not what I meant! God, good to know your sense of humour is still at a fourth grade level.” It’s good to know that some things really haven’t changed. “Gimme a hug.” It’s definitely more than he deserves, but a hug is mutually beneficial.

He’s a bit surprised at how willingly Kuroko latches onto him though. Usually he puts up a bit of resistance or just waits for him to let go, but today he’s actively holding him in return. It worries him because Kuroko only reciprocates physical comfort when words aren’t enough. This is a funeral though, and for someone he was fairly close to, so he just decides to keep an eye on him before really worrying. “I missed you…Ogiwara-kun.”

He cant help but frown and he’s glad Kuroko’s head is over his shoulder and unable to see it. Ogiwara-kun. Yeah, they had a bit of a falling out but Ogiwara-kun? He didn’t want to be presumptuous and start calling Kuroko _Tsuya_ again, because acting like everything is totally fine would make him angry but Ogiwara-kun? Well…it sucks, but he can admit he totally earned that demotion. He’ll just have to earn _'Shige-kun'_ back.

“I missed you too…Kuroko.” He doesn’t hug him for much longer but he does hold him at an arm’s length. “Well don’t you look spiffy today?” Very charming in his sleek black outfit and if he were a little more self-conscious, he would feel shabby in his plain white dress shirt and black suit and tie, not nearly as well tailored to his body as Kuroko’s.

“Your face is clean.” Is all Kuroko says in response, and its irritating that he sounds mildly surprised. Why does he seem to have the impression that he just always walks around with food on his face?

“Dude, do you really think I wouldn’t look in a mirror before I left the house?” Because really, Kuroko should have a little more faith that he wouldn’t come to a funeral looking like a slob.

Kuroko gives his a look. “You’re mom cleaned you up didn’t she?”

…She didn’t let him out of the van without giving him a once-over.

He gives Kuroko’s shoulders a squeeze before finally letting go. “…So how about you show me around? Where’s the guestbook?”

“I have to greet the other guests first, the book is just on the table.” He says as he points to a little stand not too far off from the entrance. Huh, he must have missed it on the way in. He kinda wants to protest but this isn’t exactly a friendly gathering, and Tetsuya has a job to do. Kuroko. Whatever, it’s his mind.

He doesn’t know squat about architecture, but this seems like a pretty nice place. A little chilly due to all of the windows, but it’s a fair trade for the view. Graves as far as the eye can see and bare branched trees would normally look pretty unsettling, but all the fluffy snow softens the morbidity to a more serene aesthetic. The guest book is empty and the thought of being the first to mark blank the sheet makes him cringe. It’s pretty clear that he just has to write his name, the date and time plus the option of a personal message to the family, but if he screws up it’s the first thing everyone’s going to see. Ah well, name and timestamp should be fine, he can add a personal message once the book fills up a bit more and he can take a peek at a few examples.

“Just sign your name and the date.”  The sudden sound of her voice from behind startles him enough to flick the pen he was toying with off of the table. Thankfully it’s attached to the desk by a phonecord-like spiral of plastic, and it kinda just swings by the legs of the stand as he stares at Kuroko’s mom.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, thanks Chiyume-san.” God, she‘s just as intense as he remembers. She doesn’t shy away from direct eye contact if it’s initiated and her grey eyes just pierce into a man’s soul. She’s beautiful in a scary kind of way, like a venomous snake with glittering scales. She’s also taller than he remembers, because she still has a good inch on him, and he’s grown to 5”10. Damn. “I, uh. My parent’s wanted me to share their condolences about Halmeoni. How’s Tetsuya been?” Adults like small talk right? How’s the business?

She frowns. “He’s fine. A little more reserved, but he seems to be taking things in stride. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, how’s the house been?”

“It’s pretty great. A little less space, but the school is a lot more accommodating for Ya-chan.” She hated having to rely on translators and found it tedious to write everything, so she was ecstatic to find out her teacher could sign fluently. “The bakery is also doing well, my mom is dropping off some food when she comes to pick me up.” He saw all the bags in the back of the van before he left and he knows she’s went overboard.

“That’s good to hear. I have to go greet the other guests, but you’re more than welcome to sit with us during the service.” She says amicably before turning away, not waiting for his response to her invitation nor his thanks for the offer before she starts to walk away. The black kimono concealing her feet gives the illusion of gliding and the ghostly pale skin of the nape of her neck drags a shiver up his spine. If Kuroko’s a phantom then she’s a poltergeist, unseen but wrathful. She’s never outright said it, or _really_ done anything to indicate so, but his gut tells him that Chiyume isn’t his biggest fan. It feels like he just had a brush with death.

After rubbing his arms to be rid of the sensation, he rescues the pen from its dangle and makes quick work of filling out the sheet. He’s about to set it down when he catches a flash of pink in his peripheral vision. “Oh, here you go.” He’s about to hand the pen off to her, but for a moment he’s stunned by her face. She’s beautiful even with her rather somber expression, and her hair is tied back into a neat bun though not as ornate as Chiyume’s with the lack of glittering accessory pinned into it.

Completely unfazed by his probably uncomfortable staring, she takes the pen from his frozen fingers. “Thank you.” She says with a grateful nod, and he decides to leave her with a respectful nod in return before she thinks he’s a creep. She seems _very_ familiar. But then again, most people here are.

The place is still relatively empty but he can see people are starting to file into the building. He doesn’t know when the actual service is starting so he figures he should wander around until he notices some silent cue, or an announcement is made or something. He’s pretty sure there’s an itinerary floating around, but they're most likely back by the lobby. Oh well.

He’s never been to a funeral before but he generally knows the order of things. The halls are decorated with various types of pottery, some he recognizes from Kuroko’s kitchen cupboards and others from photographs, with a good chunk he’s never seen before but he's still familiar with the art style. It’s always feels surreal when he’s reminded that his pseudo-grandmother is low-key famous. Not all the pieces are being kept safe behind protective glasses but he doesn’t even think about picking up this little red saucer because he knows how pricey some of these items can get. He’s honestly surprised the security is so lax but there probably aren’t many people coming, and all are likely well-trusted by the family. Still, he hopes these aren’t originals and decides not to linger near any for long, lest he look at one too hard and it breaks.

It’s while he’s drifting through rooms that he stumbles upon the casket. There’s already a group of people there seated in some of the pews, their white and gray hairs making it apparent that they’re likely Halmeoni’s friends. They’re faced away from him but he can tell by the way their hands periodically drift to their faces that they’re in tears. As he walks down the middle of the isle he’s reminded of a wedding he went to just last year, and it’s brought to his attention how similar the events kind of are. He’s sure if he told Kuroko about it he’d think up a whole novel’s worth of purple prose about it, but he really can’t be bothered to expand upon the observation beyond the surface right now. It’s a fairly basic casket but it’s decorated with the colourful array of flowers left by well-wishers, and a wreath full of blooming white flowers is standing next to it. He doesn’t know much about plants either, but he’s pretty sure they all mean to communicate sympathy or condolence.

Halmeoni.

He wishes he weren’t such a coward. He wishes he just talked to Kuroko – properly – after the Winter Cup, rather than just exchange new phone numbers and go their separate ways. He wishes he had the chance to see her earlier, show her that he’s sorry for the pain he probably caused her as well, and make things right. He doesn’t want to see her like this - never wanted to think about this - but it’s all he has now, the last memory of her face. The woman who let him into her family because he was important to her grandson. The woman who bandaged his hand and kissed it better when he broke one of her teacups and cut himself trying to hide it. Showed him that even the broken can be mended and made better with gold to fill the cracks, and it fills him with hope and determination to make things right with Kuroko. He owes her that much and he owes Kuroko even more.

She looks so small and pale.

She’s undeniably dead and he hadn’t realized he was in denial until he’s being confronted with the fact. She’s dead, and he’ll never see her again. Never hold her hands nor taste her cooking nor hear all the stories she hasn’t told. He doesn’t fight the tears that well up in his eyes and doesn’t wipe them as they roll down to collect at his chin. Her hair lays loose in waves down to her shoulders, just long enough to touch the stark white burial kimono they dressed her in, a light gray in contrast to the garment. He doesn’t know if she can hear him, but he hopes with all his aching heart that she can. He’s sorry. He loves her and knows she loves him. And he regrets not calling-

He can’t even continue his train of thought. His heart is caught in a clenching fist and it hurts, bleeds, makes him breathless as he chokes on a quiet sob. It’s easy to think there will always be time until it simply runs out. It’s easy to take things for granted until they’re gone. He remembers when she sent him a letter, an honest to god piece of snail mail, telling him that Tetsuya made it to the Winter Cup to fight for his ideals and friendships. It was a sincere gesture without a single passive-aggressive word about ignoring Kuroko, just asking how he’s been and telling him about Kuroko’s struggles after he left. She definitely took him on a cross-country guilt trip, but she didn’t sound angry and that was what he was most afraid of. She talked him into making things right, and he never got the chance to thank her or apologize. It feels awful to have a debt he can never repay.

The air is cold on his wet face and the white light from all the windows is painful to the eye when he glances outside. He curls his trembling fingers into a fist as bony fingers curl around his shoulder. It frightens him enough to flinch out of their grasp. A woman, Tanaka-san if he recalls the members of the Go club correctly, is looking at him with kind red-rimmed eyes. “Here you go dear.” She’s offering him a tissue and he uses it to clean his face before he accepts her offer of a hug. Her floral perfume is suffocating and her forehead only reaches his shoulder but it’s warmth. It’s comfort. He lets go of her first and takes a step back. He’s still tearing up, the odd drop falling but he feels…less like he’s trying to swallow glass. “Are you alright there sweetie?” Her round cheeks crease as her mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile.

“I…Yeah, thank you Tanaka-san.” He says sheepishly, and his eyes dart around her face in his embarrassment.

“You’re little Shige-kun right? My, you’ve gotten so big.” She then pinches his arm as if to solidify her grandmotherly status. “I’m surprised you’re not with Tetsuya-chan.”

“Yeah,” His voice cracks and he has to clear his throat to sound stronger. “Yeah, but he has to go around with his parents. I’m just waiting for him to finish up.”

She looks troubled, putting a hand over her ample chest as if faint. “Oh. That boy wasn’t the same after you moved, he missed you terribly.”

He can imagine so. It’s easy to picture Kuroko keeping to himself and his books before he met Aomine, just retreating someplace far away where no one could reach him. It’s another weight on his chest. “Y-Yeah, I know…I’m gunna to sit down. Thanks again Tanaka-san.” He says with a small smile, and at the prompting of her tugging at his sleeve he stoops to her height so she can kiss his cheek.

“It’s nice seeing you.” She says before returning to her seat, a slow hobble that makes him wonder if he should have offered to escort her but she seems to be managing just fine without him.

It’s just as he sits in the front row pew across from Tanaka-san (sitting with her son and his wife) that a new group of people walk in, and his eyes are immediately drawn to that same pink haired girl. Then he’s quick to identify the rest of the mourners ambling with her. The renowned Generation of Miracles. He’s not quite sure why _they_ were invited, but of course she’s with _them_. Birds of a feather flock together and she definitely seems like she could be cut from the same fine silk cloth. They move slowly, lumbering gracefully down the aisle in their suits like a herd of giraffes. They draw nearer and at first none of them take note of him. While there are quite a few elderly guests, he could easily be lumped in the same category as one of the relatives accompanying them, but then their captain meets his eyes and he sees the recognition. Both of his eyes are red and Shige is the one looking at a stranger as they pass.

It seems Kuroko really did manage to do it.

Akashi’s eye don’t linger on his once he’s is out of his line of sight, and continues to seamlessly lead the imperial march to the casket. Now that he thinks about it, that pink-haired girl is probably the manager of the team, the Momoi Kuroko has told him about. One would think he should remember their names after what they did, but he’s spent so much time trying not to think about it – not thinking about _them_ – that forgetting most of their names can’t even be considered a loss. Besides, their names weren’t exactly tossed around much in the circuit back then either, people just referred to them as their positions on the court at most. They were just called _The Generation of Miracles_ by everyone. This great faceless unstoppable inhuman entity made of talent, which leeched the life out of middle school basketball like a cancerous mass. They shuffle into a line of no particular order that he can discern, and he can’t hear what they’re murmuring over her body but he doesn’t care to listen anyways. He just watches as they all say their piece and move to the side to wait for the others to finish. It’s while they’re looking for a place to sit that the Kuroko family makes their appearance, and as his parents head towards him, Kuroko himself splits off going straight for his old teammates. It’s petty, but Shige wishes Kuroko had just come right to him. He’s saying something to them, and he can guess that it’s an invitation to share the bench from the way they all glace over. It’s not a large room and with all the guests spread out through all the other pews Kuroko is probably considerate enough to offer the rest of this bench so they don’t have to mingle with middle-aged strangers. His theory is confirmed when they all start migrating in this direction, and they look just as apprehensive about this arrangement as him. Especially with the way their eyes dart away from his, to around the room and back to him.

“Hello Ogiwara-kun, I apologize for the inconvenience but it’s best if we all sit together. The service will be starting soon.” Kuroko quickly explains as he sits down on his left, with his parents taking up the rest of the space to the end of the aisle. This forces one of _them_ to sit on his other side, and they all seem to hesitate for a moment before the blond one – Kise Ryouta, the freaking model – bites the bullet and claims the hot seat. None of them are ideal neighbours but he thinks four-eyes would’ve been the best option, yet he can’t complain because at least it’s not Akashi.

This is still awkward though.

Kise is fidgeting, performing a facial gymnastics that only a model would know how as he wavers between a grimace and a smile. “Um. How about official introductions?”

Thankfully they’re saved from false pleasantries by the Buddhist priest arriving, a stout man draped in the typical garb of loose gold and red robes, and after a brief introduction the ceremony is in session. He lights an incense and starts to chant a sutra over Halmeoni, reciting an ancient script that Shige has no hope of understanding as he waves around the herbs and shakes his beads. He’s trying to pay attention but it’s hard not to let his eyes wander as it starts to become repetitive beyond the five minute mark. First his gaze strays to Kuroko and at a first glance he looks unaffected, watching the rite with unwavering focus but then movement in his lower peripherals draws his gaze downward. It looks like he’s just clasping his hands on his lap but he can see his thumb moving, grinding into the palm of his other hand, though digging might be a more accurate description by the way the muscles in his hand flex from the effort. The contradiction between his blank face and his distressed actions are a bit concerning, and it’s giving him a new set of mixed signals to sort through. In the past if he was able to maintain his poker face then situation wasn’t that dire, but if he’s picking and scratching at his hands then he’s in a real spiral. There’s usually a frown on his face or a twitch in his brow to accompany it no matter how subtle, but his face is completely unwrinkled right now.

Is he scratching subconsciously? Whatever, he can mull it over later since at the very least, it’s clear that he’s not in a good place. He’s not sure if the gesture will be appreciated but he gently knocks his knee against Kuroko’s to get his attention. It works and he’s given a sharp side-eye for his troubles, but one doesn’t last long with the Kuroko family if they can’t take a good stare down, so he’s unintimidated even as he slowly puts a hand to Kuroko’s thin wrist. The not-quite-glare is quick to soften as Kuroko unlaces his fingers in a sign of permission, allowing Shige to slot his hand there as though he had never let go. Kuroko’s skin is cold and clammy in his grasp and his nailbed even looks a little blue; normally he would’ve been concerned but Kuroko is breathing just fine. The best thing he can do now is hold on and share some warmth.

 

* * *

 

It’s while Halmeoni is being cremated that things start to really heat up.

He’s watches with tired eyes as her casket is closed, and everyone stands at attention as she’s wheeled down the aisle, off to the crematorium located in the neighbouring building. The Kuroko’s rise to follow, but before his parents or Halmeoni get too far Kuroko turns to them and says, “I’m sorry for such an enormous request, but could you all please stay together?”

And of course that translates to, _‘Please allow my friend to awkwardly trail after you, I don’t want him to get lonely_.’ Which is humiliating.

Even he himself is against it, but who can say no to Kuroko? Especially at his grandmother’s funeral, so they all suck it up and Akashi is the one to say, “If that’s what you would like, it’s not a problem.” And Kuroko’s face doesn’t change as he thanks them, but the relief over their easy co-operation is palpable before he speed walks to catch up with his family.

They’re left to mingle about and snack on the finger-foods during the hour and a half long process, and while Kuroko has returned to the main building for the wait, he has to make quick rounds with his parents once again. So rather than wandering about with a small plate of riceballs, (served on very expensive plates, because why would they use anything less?) he still has to wait here. With six other people. There’s two empty seats at their round table and with one of them a temporary suit jacket hook, no one else feels the particular need to claim the extra seat when there are several empty tables available. The little dining area is a room that was previously locked when he first arrived, just as old looking as the rest of the place and while it lacked windows it still held that characteristic sparkle thanks to the chandeliers dangling in a way that seemed awfully precarious to him. Honestly, he’s not very hungry but it’s either eat or potentially risk being engaged in conversation. Everyone seems content with this arrangement.

“We didn’t even know her that well and I’m so sad.” Murmured the girl – Momoi – with red eyes, her face naturally squishes into a pout as it rests in her hand.

Kise hums in agreement, “I can’t imagine how Kurokocchi feels…” Kurokocchi? And now that it isn’t obvious that he’s staring since the blond is seated across from him, Shige can get a better look at what the other teen has been toying with during the whole ceremony. His fidgeting had been fairly distracting and he would have said something if he hadn’t been even more occupied with focusing on Kuroko, squeezing his hand to give courage before it was his turn to get up and pay his respects to his grandmother. At first it looked like a regular plain gold band is wrapped around his index finger, but as his rolls his thumb against the surface and judging by the little black crescent moon that circles around, he notices it’s really moving. It has to have some kind of rotating piece because the skin around the accessory isn’t pulling at the motion, and it’s definitely on snug. Huh, it must be some kind of novelty ring.

“Tetsu’s strong, he’ll be alright.” Aomine jumps in. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his electric blue dress shirt and he’s loosened the thin black tie around his neck. There’s a lot for him to unpack from what just left this jerk’s mouth. First of all, Tetsu? Pretty sure he doesn’t deserve that. And then there’s his blatant disregard for Kuroko’s emotional well-being.

Four-eyes huffs. “Perhaps in the long run, but grief is a complex emotion and grieving an even more complicated process. He may seem fine today, but who’s to know how he’ll feel tomorrow.” It’s good to hear someone has some sense.

Whelp.

He supposes now is a great time to talk since Kuroko is occupied. He really doesn’t want to be the bigger person, especially when he’s like the third shortest at the table, but clearly he’s going to have to get the ball rolling. “Alright guys, can we real talk for a second?” And he feels pretty uncomfortable having everyone’s attention on him all the sudden. “Um. I really don’t want to be anywhere near you, cause like, that whole thing back in middle school but we’re probably going to be seeing a lot of each other.” Because he’s not leaving Kuroko again, and his friendship with _them_ is the other thing Kuroko fought for.

Silence.

Either he stunned them mute with his sudden speech or they’re waiting for him to elaborate. Whichever the reason it works in his favour, so he chooses to continue before someone interrupts. “We definitely have to resolve that but today isn’t about me, or you. It’s about Kuroko…Halmeoni really, but whatever, you get my point. The last thing he needs – or can handle really – is worrying about us fighting, or me hating you. So just for today, that match never happened, and we’ve never met. My name is Ogiwara Shigehiro, Kuroko’s childhood friend. Nice to finally meet you.” He finishes with a nod.

More silence.

They’re looking at him like he just said he has to catch the next bus to Pluto. They couldn’t have seriously intended to just pretend he’s an empty seat the entire time right? What were they planning on doing when Kuroko shows up? Kuroko is definitely trying to push them together. Why he’s choosing to do so right now, Shige isn’t quite sure, but he supposes it would’ve been hard to get them all in one place anytime else. Maybe it’s a distraction. Dealing with this shitshow is probably easier for him than dealing with Halmeoni’s death, but if Shige has it his way, Kuroko is going to start dealing with _both_ issues today.

Though if he lectures anyone about avoiding their problems, he’ll kinda be a hypocrite.

He’s both surprised by and expected Akashi to respond first. “Nice to meet you Ogiwara-kun, I’m Akashi Seijuuro. Kuroko’s ex-captain.” He says cordially, and easily extends a hand in offer to shake. Everyone is glancing between them but he only has eyes for Akashi. He still feels that anger. The bitter frustration of that day, and he can taste the salt of long dried tears and blood as he bites his tongue a little too hard. He’s the one who wanted this, but it’s harder to take that hand and smile than he anticipated.

A pause, then, “Nice to meet you, Akashi-kun.” Their hands meet in a brief, but firm handshake. It doesn’t feel like he’s just made a deal with the devil, so he decides to take this as a good omen.

Glasses looks to Akashi before he introduces himself for some reason. “Midorima Shintaro, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He says stiffly, and it’s when he displays his hand that Shige notes he even bandages his fingers off the court, which is strange unless he has scars or something. He's also left-handed, which is interesting. Their handshake is even shorter than the one before.

“Feeling’s mutual.” He’s willing to admit that may have come out a little sarcastic, but he looks so uncomfortable that it’s hard not to take it personally. He feels like some peasant a noble is forced to be polite to.

Then he turns to the purple-haired one sitting next to him, since they seem to have silently agreed to go counter-clockwise in their greetings. There’s an expectant air as they wait for him to say his piece but he just continues to eat one of the cookies on his crowded plate. Is he supposed to go first, or…?

“Oi, stop eating, it’s your turn.” Aomine prods, and the giant’s half-lidded eyes widen a bit as he looks around to see everyone waiting on him. Did he zone out or…? He really doesn’t know what to make of this guy.

“Ah? Murasakibara Atsushi.” Then he goes back to eating. Is that it? Well, his fingers are all crumby anyways and he still sounded more personable than Midorima.

Akashi is the one to try and bridge the gap. “Don’t mind him, he doesn’t see the point of formalities. It may take some getting used to, but he means no harm.”

Fair enough. “Ogiwara Shigehiro.” He says in an equally neutral tone. It’s odd to remember this quiet over-grown sloth is the same monster who actually scored in _his own basket_ to fix the score to their liking.

Momoi perks up since it’s her turn, with no one occupying the empty seat or coat rack between them. “Hello, I’m Momoi Satsuki. I’m afraid Tetsu-kun hasn’t said much about you.” She says as she extends a delicate hand to him, the rest of her arm covered by the black lace sleeves of her dress.

He matches her grip strength and meets her gaze without issue, chuckles even. She may be one of them, but she was never one of _them_. “I’m not surprised, he’s not much of a talker. He has told me about you however.”

All the sudden she’s practically sparkling, and the gentle grip on his hand turns bone grinding in her excitement. “Really? What did he say?” Holy hell, of course she likes Kuroko.

“Er, a bit of this and that. There may have been mentions of your cooking.”

She suddenly looks rather dejected as she releases him and sinks back into her seat. “Oh.” Is all she has to say, and while Kuroko never said anything rude about her or her food, she is correct that he never tossed around compliments about her culinary endeavours either.

Still, he feels like he should soften the blow. “Nothing bad, I swear.” He’s rewarded with a smile before they move on to Aomine, who’s sitting beside her. And he knows that’s him because Kuroko’s talked about him enough that Shige knows facts that range from his taste in magazines, to his clown-like shoe size.

“Aomine Daiki, Tetsu’s old partner.” He says casually, grasping with a firm hold and vigorously waving their hands up and down before he lets go.

Shige’s grin widens to match his, fangs flashing as he says, “Oh I know you. Kuroko’s told me _all_ about you.” And if his smile turns a little more genuine in the face of Aomine shrinking at the rather ominous statement, well, that’s everyone’s business.

“I’ll bet…” He mutters as he curls his fingers into fists and frowns at the table. He has this kicked puppy arura around him now, and he kinda feels like an asshole for that sudden jab. It was his idea to make peace after all.

“Yup. I can’t believe you thought he was a real ghost, I heard you screamed like a girl.” He teases, and it’s enough to get him fired up again.

“I can’t believe he told you that!” Yeah, he can see what the appeal is to Kuroko. This guy is too easy to rile up.

Now everyone has a hint of a smile and some of that uncomfortable air has cleared. Last but not least, Kise speaks up. “Not to sound arrogant, but you probably already know me.” Kise looks sheepish at the assumption, but it grates on his nerves that he’s so confident. The fact that it’s true makes it even more annoying. “Kise Ryouta. Yes, Kise the model.” As they shake hands he can’t help but note that his skin feels softer than Momoi’s. Damn, he would’ve asked what product he uses if he couldn’t already guess that it costs more than he can afford.

“Great, we’re all acquainted.” He declares in a chipper voice.

Now what?

That seems to be the question on everyone’s mind as they look at each other uneasily, the awkward air misting back as the silence presses down heavier by the second. “So how did you two meet?” Cuts in Akashi.

Nice, easy to answer. “We used to live in the same area, but we didn’t meet until the beginning of the summer leading up to fifth grade. I found a basketball at the local court, and since I didn’t bring mine I figured it would be cool if I used it since no one was there. I just started playing with it when out of nowhere this runt pops up saying I stole his ball. So then I called finders-keepers ‘cause I was a little brat, and he says he’s going to play me for it.” They all smile at the image of a tiny Kuroko scowling at some kid, demanding his property back.

“Classic Tetsu.” Aomine says fondly, and he can’t help but agree.

“As I’m sure you all guessed, he got destroyed. He didn’t have enough stamina to chase me for every ball. Could have fooled me into thinking we were playing soccer with how often he ended up kicking the ball instead of dribbling. He kept calling time-outs to reference a book on the rules of basketball and techniques too. Then at one point, he finally throws the ball high enough to reach the rim but it rebounds and hits him in the face.” It knocked him flat on his ass and Kuroko still gets mad when he brings it up, but it cracks him up every time. What a loser.

“That’s so cute!” Kise quietly squeals and Momoi nods in agreement, Aomine on the other hand, is choking back laughter.

“Anyways, he demands a rematch and he was so funny to watch that I indulged him. Before I knew it, I was teaching him how to shoot and dribble so he could leave the stupid book alone, and suddenly we were friends.” He finishes with a shrug. As they say, the rest is history.

“That sounds adorable! But why didn’t you guys meet sooner if you lived in the same area? Wouldn’t you have gone to the same school?” She then asks curiously.

It’s true they should have met on the walk to or from school, even if they weren’t in the same hypothetical class but… “Kuroko was homeschooled until he convinced his mom to enroll him in my school.”

Akashi tilts his head in intrigue. “Really?”

“Yeah, he would’ve missed too many lessons and fallen behind if he went to a regular school.” He answers evenly. “How much do you know about Kuroko’s medical history?”

At those words everyone suddenly looks steeled for a fight. Even Amoine’s bad posture straightens like a soldier at attention. “All it said in his student file was asthma.” Says Midorima with a serious glint in his eyes, and he realizes he may have worded that a bit too forebodingly.

He holds his palms up in a show of peace. “He’s not dying or anything! He’s just prone to bronchitis and chest infections, so he got sick a lot. He was born pretty early so his lungs are kinda shitty.” To be honest though – and no pun intended – it still isn’t nothing to sneeze at. But his family and doctors had it well under control, so Kuroko’s never been in any real risk of dying. That he’s aware of anyways, because Kuroko loves withholding important information like that.

“Hmpf. Anything else we should know?” Midorima’s tone is biting, and he’s a little irked he’s being talked down to as if he purposely didn’t tell them sooner.

“He’s just worried about Kurokocchi, he’s a tsundere.” Explains Kise this time with a teasing grin, and Midorima actually blushes and fiddles with his glasses in response. Why can’t any of them just communicate like normal people?

He’s drawn out of his musings by the tall one – the tallest one, he should say – speaking with a cup of tea in hand, “Maybe we should get Kuro-chin lots of milkshakes to cheer him up.”

What?

“Yeah, maybe next weekend we should all take him to Maji for some.” Aomine adds in, but seriously _what?_

He didn’t mean to repeat that out loud, but now everyone at the table is looking at him and it’s too late to swallow back the words.

Kise-The-Model is doing that strange facial spasm again as he seems to contemplate how to approach him. “Um…I don’t know if you know this, but Kurokocchi’s favourite place to eat is this fast-food chain called Maji Burger. He usually goes with Kagamicchi- or just Kagami - his light at Seirin. Er, Seirin is the school he’s going to, and the whole light-shadow thing-” Shige cuts him off there.

 Does he think he’s an idiot? “Thanks, I haven’t been living under a rock. There are Maji Burgers in Kanagawa, and I know who Kagami is. I pretty much invented the light-shadow thing.” Well that’s an exaggeration, and it was admittedly used under a different context, but he’s digressing. “I was confused about the milkshake thing. How would that make him feel better?”

He could understand if they were talking about some specialty café, but Maji Burger definitely only has regular milkshakes. They’re all still looking at him like he’s crazy and/or stupid for some reason though. Even Akashi is arching his brow higher than Midorima can throw a basketball. “Um. Their milkshakes are Tetsu-kun’s favourite.” Momoi explains slowly, but it still makes no sense.

“Why is it so odd that he likes milkshakes?” Inquires Akashi, and the million dollar question makes it clear that this is Kuroko’s fault.

“He’s lactose intolerant, too much milk makes him puke.” Of course he’s still drinking it though, and he’s not sure why he’s surprised to hear that.

There’s a lull as everyone digests the information.

Aomine kicks off the conversation again. “What? How can he be lactose intolerant? Why would he drink milk if he’s lactose intolerant?”

“That’s what _I’m_ confused about. Anyways, I’m sure he can explain himself since he’s heading over right now.” He says with a pointed stare at the phantom himself as he approaches with his parents. Kuroko is actually of average height, but when he’s constantly surrounded by giants and even dwarfed by his family, he just always looks diminutive. His eyes are tired and right now he looks particularly young between them.

“I’m back. I’d like to introduce you to my parents.” His face is just as passive as it was before the service started, but there’s an undercurrent of exhaustion in his tone as he drops into the empty seat between him and the jackets.

“Kuroko Tsukiyo.” His father says in a flat tone.

Ah yes, a man of many words, just as he remembers. Though in all seriousness he does look a bit scruffier than the last time they met. His hair is also shorter, as it used to touch his shoulders but now it seems to be cut just long enough to pull back into a half ponytail. The stubble he’s grown makes his face more angular, though it’s possible he lost weight as well. His eyes are bright and unblinking. Creepy.

“And I’m Kuroko Chiyume. Though you may know me under the name Aoshima.”

That raises a few brows at the table. “Do you mean the porcelain company?” Asks Momoi, and it reminds him of the Google search engine as she sorts through information in her head.

She smiles at the girl with a pleased expression and with her lips painted Spider Lily red, it looks dangerous. “Yes, it’s run by my father. Though I’m not the heir.”

“You’re renowned for your kintsugi correct?” Akashi phrased it as a question but he clearly knows his stuff.

“Indeed.” She…actually sounds amused?

“I was curious as to why various pieces from your collections were adorning the halls, but am I also correct in assuming Halmeoni was one of the designers?” It’s super weird hearing Akashi call her Halmeoni too, but she probably wouldn’t accept anything but that from friends of Kuroko’s.

“Correct again. I’m surprised Tetsuya failed to mention that.” She glances at her son, who Shige notes is watching the exchange with interest. It’s odd that they haven’t met Kuroko’s parents yet but he guesses with so many houses to choose from and their hectic schedules, it would be rare for their plans to overlap for such a thing.

“We don’t speak of family business in great detail. He only mentioned that she'll well known in certain circles for making pottery.” He says with a charming smile in return. Dear god they’re resonating. Probably feeding off of each other’s bloodlust like the cutthroat monsters they are…okay, that’s a bit harsh, but they’re definitely sharing a wavelength. “Where are my manners, I’m Akashi Seijuuro. Kuroko-kun’s old basketball team captain.” Her smile cools a degree at the last bit, but she’s still less cold than she’s ever been with him. Yet Kuroko claims she has a thing against basketball and not him personally. BS, in his unheeded opinion.

“The rest of the starters are here as well.” Slips in Kuroko, reopening the conversation for others to join in.

“You’re Kise Ryouta.” She notes with surprise.

“You recognized me!” Kise chirps. “Kurokocchi looks a lot like you Ma’am.”

She looks amused at his observation. “Such a thing tends to happen when you’re biologically related.” She says dryly, causing Kise to chuckle and blush. They’re related alright, that was some Kuroko brand sass right there. “I’m afraid we’re not familiar with the rest of you by face alone.”

“Momoi Satsuki.”

“Aomine Daiki.”

“Murasakibara Atsushi.”

“Midorima Shintaro.”

At the last name Kuroko’s father speaks up. “Are you related to doctor Midorima Fuyumi?”

Midorima blinks at the question. “Yes, that’s my mother.”

“We’ve consulted her before. Very nice woman.” There’s nothing objectively wrong with what he said, but his blank stare and indecipherable flat tone makes it unsettling. Maybe this is why he lets his wife do most of the talking.

She takes his hand and subtly comes to the rescue. “Yes, both of your parents are quite competent. It was very nice to finally meet you all but we have to go talk to the director. Stay with your friends Tetsuya, and take a moment to recharge. We’ll collect you when it’s time.” She says before giving them a shallow bow.

“Alright, thank you.” Says Kuroko, and he loses a bit of the tension in his frame, relaxes his posture a bit to lean into the chair more.

“It was nice meeting you as well.” Responds Akashi, and everyone murmurs their agreement before they take their leave.

It’s quiet for a moment before Murasakibara says, “Why is Kuro-chin so short?” To which Kuroko looks absolutely offended. Fair question though, since he was thinking just a while ago, Kuroko looks pretty short at 5”6 when even his dad is like 5”9. But Shige has a strong hunch Kuroko’s just a late bloomer, and he can’t wait until he starts to overtake Akashi in the height department. He can already imagine the quiet outrage when someone points out Kuroko is getting taller…

Kise flops over the table, audibly banging his head against the surface. “Scaaaaary! Kurokocchi, why are your parents so intense?”

“Yeah, no offense but your dad gave me the creeps. I thought _you_ were a little bland but wow. You wouldn’t think that’s a genetic trait.” Aomine adds with a theatrical shiver.

Kuroko looks visibly displeased with Aomine for that. “He doesn’t like to make idle conversation, but he made an effort to know you for my sake.”

“I think they were perfectly normal. There are quite a few distinct similarities between your personalities.” Akashi says with an amused smile.

Kise lifts his head from the table to continue. “Was it just me, or are Kuroko’s mom and Akashicchi kind of similar as well?”

“Oh yeah, that was creepy too.” Agrees Aomine.

While he totally agrees with that as well, Kuroko is starting to look uncomfortable. His arms are tucked in close like he wants to cross them over his chest, but it seems like he’s settled for keeping his hands under the table and presumably on his lap. Yeah, it probably doesn’t feel too good to hear his friends judging his parents like that.

“What _I_ want to know,” He says over Kise’s next sentence, “Is why I hear _someone’s_ been drinking milkshakes.” He sends a stern look at the phantom in question. Kuroko freezes and he’s purposefully not meeting anyone’s eyes, but this is a better kind of discomfort. A playful, hand-in-the-cookie-jar type of guilt rather than genuine shame now.

“Hey, yeah. You aren’t _really_ lactose intolerant, right Tetsu?” Aomine has the audacity to glance at him as if he’s been lying. Rude.

Kuroko’s still not looking anyone in the eye. “Not _really_ but…technically yes.”

They’re staring at Kuroko in disbelief and Aomine’s mouth is even hanging open. Suck on that.

“Why are you drinking milkshakes almost daily if you're lactose intolerant? Please tell me you’ve been taking medication for it.” Midorima looks pained at the prospect of Kuroko just drinking straight dairy, but that’s probably what he’s been doing.

 “…I’m not that intolerant, I can handle one milkshake. At worst I get a stomach ache, but I know my limit.” He tries to reason, but _oh no_. Shige can’t let this one slide.

“Um, I don’t trust your judgement. I quite distinctly remember that time you vomited all over my sweater after we ate some ice cream.” He then had to throw out his favourite sweater because the stains never came out.

Everyone looks rightfully disgusted, but Kuroko interjects to defend his honour. “Wait, he’s telling the story wrong. We both ate about half a liter of ice-cream, and I didn’t know I was lactose intolerant at the time.”

“How did you not know?” Momoi looks reasonably confused.

His expression doesn’t change but the way he looks elsewhere gives him a sheepish air. “Keep in mind, I was ten.” Which is always the start of a great story.

“My mother is also lactose intolerant so I only have soy milk at home, and no one explained the difference. Because I can handle a decent amount and we hardly have any dairy products, we never noticed I was also intolerant. Sometimes I would get a stomach ache, but I never made the connection because it was also a bit of a delayed reaction. I was spending the weekend at his house, and Ogiwara-kun made a bet that I couldn’t finish this small container of ice-cream. At first I was fine and I almost finished it, but then my stomach started to cramp very badly. Ogiwara-kun was concerned and was going to help me to his bed to rest, but then I vomited on him.” Oh yes, and then his mother called Kuroko’s grandmother to tell her what happened, and it didn’t take too long to figure out what went wrong.

He shivers so violently at the reminder it must almost look like a convulsion, and he can’t even imagine the kind of face he’s making. “It was a lot. So nasty. You gave me legitimate PTSD, I couldn’t look at ice-cream for a month without thinking about it. To this day milkshakes still kinda gross me out.” God that was traumatizing.

“Yuck.” Says Murasakibara as he pushes away his plate, which still had two cupcakes on it.

“I said I was sorry.” Kuroko grumbles with a slight pout, and everyone looks surprised at the childish display before he disciplines himself back into a stoic expression. Is it really that shocking to see him emote? Kuroko was never a Kise, but back in elementary he never had to work hard for a clearly visible reaction. For the nth time he wonders what happened in Teiko, because while Kuroko confided in him, it was a rare occurrence and even rarer was it relevant to _his own_ well-being. He’s the type of person to bottle everything up until he can’t, or the issue has already resolved itself and there isn’t anything he can do but say _that sucks bro_.

“I know, and I forgive you.” He says patiently, putting a hand to his chest to emphasize the silly, but very real sincerity.

Akashi looks contemplative as he watches it all. Everyone seems to have been soaking in their interactions with rapt attention. “You two are very close.” He says wistfully.

Yeah. They were.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the funeral kind of speeds by. It takes them about twenty minutes to transfer all of the bones into a jar, and they with some of her ashes will be buried in the family plot. The rest goes into an ornate urn that they will take home, and finding out that Halmeoni personally made it herself gives him a deep sense of wrongness. The event ended about ten minutes earlier than scheduled so they’re once again left sitting around together as they wait for their rides. Well apparently Akashi and Murasakibara are sharing a hotel room for the weekend, having arrived on Friday evening, but are holding off on calling a ride until the rest of the Miracles sans Kuroko get picked up safely first. It’s really not necessary since Kuroko is going to be the last to leave the venue, and it makes more sense for him and his parents to play watchdog since they’re kinda responsible for them, but he supposes Akashi’s just overprotective.

Kuroko has been quiet.

Today has definitely been taxing for everyone, physically and mentally.

No one’s really in the mood for conversation at the moment so they just lounge around at another table wordlessly as people around them say their goodbyes and shuffle out the door. However there’s a fairly old looking woman steering her motorized wheelchair towards them. He can’t remember her name for the life of him, but he knows she was a close friend of Halmeoni’s. She immigrated to Japan later in life with her daughter and while she understands the language just fine, he remembers her speech was never very fluent and heavily accented. The last time he’d seen her she relied heavily on a walker, but it appears her mobility has further deteriorated during his absence. Her thick grey curly hair bounces with every bump the chair runs over and her eyes, which are slightly distorted by her thick glasses, are focused entirely on Kuroko.

“Annyeong Tetsuya.” She says with a sweet smile once she’s pulled up close to their table.

“Annyeonghaseyo Mi-Suk-san,” And that’s about as far as he can follow the conversation. Kuroko and Halmeoni have taken the time to teach him a few travel book phrases in exchange for some brief JSL lessons, but he never did get the hang of it. Plus he’s so out of practice he’s only recognizing eight words so far, and remembering the translations for three. Fortunately everyone seems just as lost as him, and there’s something satisfying in knowing that as ‘absolute’ as Akashi is, even he has no clue as to what’s going on.

He’s pretty sure he hears the name Jeong-Sun being thrown around by Mi-Suk in the stream of Korean, so he can at least guess they’re talking about Halmeoni. While it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to reach that conclusion, he still feels proud he could figure out that much on his own. The conversation seems to take a sudden turn for the worst though. They sounded somber from the beginning but the tone has gone completely grim now, and Kuroko is doing _The Thing_. That facial twitch – this time at the corner of his mouth – that tells Shige he’s teetering on the edge of a meltdown and he’s trying to cram it all back in the box.

Mi-Suk puts a wrinkled hand to Kuroko’s cheek, and she pays no mind to the tears hesitantly overflowing from her own watery eyes. She pats him gently and smiles again but Kuroko doesn’t mirror the expression in the slightest. She says something in a heartbreakingly soft voice before her hand drags down his face in a caress as it falls back to her chair. They’re quiet for a moment and then she seems to ask him a question, to which Kuroko nods in response to.

As she starts to reverse and turn, Kuroko rises to his feet and addresses them in quiet Japanese. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back. I would like to see her off.” He speaks in a whisper and he follows after Mi-Suk just as softly, the motorized whir of her chair louder than his dress shoes against the floor.

All is silent at the table once more.

He’s thinking now.

If Kuroko doesn’t use this time to cry in private, then he’s just stuffing all these bad feelings it into that box. He’s seen the lid rattle twice already, and he’s hardly spent much time with Kuroko himself. He has to get Kuroko to blow off some steam before he has to leave. If keeps squeezing thoughts into that box, he knows Kuroko is going to hole himself up in his room later and have a meltdown. He’s seen what happens when that box gets full once, and it’s not healthy physically or mentally. If he just asks Kuroko to talk to him right now, he’s definitely going to be evasive. So the best thing to do is cut off the obvious exit…

Shige claps his hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “New plan, middle school is a thing that happened again.” They all look bewildered at his sudden 180, but it was a shitty Band-Aid fix that solved nothing anyways. It’s best to face the truth. “I don’t know what they were talking about, but it really upset him.”

“What does this have to do with _that_ stuff?” Aomine’s glaring at the table, but Shige doesn’t give a damn if it makes him uncomfortable.

“When he comes back I’m going to ask if he’s okay, and obviously he’s going to deflect instead of talk. And here’s how the conversation is basically gunna go; ‘ _Hey Kuroko, you good?’ ‘Oh yeah, I’m totally fine. What about you guys? Must be super awkward ‘cause of that whole Teiko-Meiko thing.’ ‘Yeah, good times.’_ And then we’ll sit in an uncomfortable silence until we get picked up, or he gets called over by someone else, and he’ll bottle it up until further notice.” He finishes with a frown.

Momoi bites her bottom lip. “That does sound like Tetsu-kun…”

“So what do you have in mind?” There’s a hauntingly familiar look of calculation in Akashi’s gleaming red eyes, and he’s starting to reconsider the genius of saying anything, but it won’t work unless they play along.

He spies Kuroko already walking back and clicks his tongue. “I’ll try to make him talk about it. For the most part, let me lead and just back me up.” He only has a pretty rough plan, but sometimes that wiggle room makes it easier to take Kuroko off-guard.

His face still looks dry and composed. “Welcome back Kuro-chin.” Murasakibara said without any real enthusiasm, mostly focused on flicking the purposeless little switch on this small dice-sized thing he borrowed from Kise while they were waiting – who seems to have a number of gadgets in his pockets.

“Thank you for waiting. Are you’re rides still not here?” He asks as he settles back into his seat.

Kise shakes his head. “There’s some traffic, my sister said she’s going to be a bit late.”

“I came with Dai-chan.” Momoi says, to which Aomine just shrugs.

“Same as Kise. My mom and sister were shopping in Tokyo while I was here, and the roads are packed.” Shige explains. “But anyways what was that about with Mi-Suk-san?”

No outward reaction. “She was just expressing her regrets and reminiscing.” His voice is still flat but it sounds a tone deeper.

Shige frowns. “You looked kinda messed up about it. You’ve been walking around with your parents all day, have you really had time to process everything? Are…you doing okay?” This is it.

“I’ve been doing fine thank you.” He didn’t even take a second to think about his answer. “I’m sorry for my consistent absences, and consequentially horrible mediation. I know it must be fairly uncomfortable due to...past events.” He concludes delicately. If they were caught off-guard his cautious wording definitely would’ve set up an awkward atmosphere as they all reflected on said _past events_ , but it’s almost an inside joke now. He can see he’s even won a bit of respect around the table for his accurate analysis. It’s really not that much of a feat if one can figure out a few key traits since he’s such a straight-forward guy, but it’ll make for smoother sailing later if he can prove to be on equal grounds or superior to them at something. As it is right now, he’s little more than Kuroko’s pet in their eyes.

He gently bumps his shoulder to Kuroko’s, who’s sitting right next to him, and the chair to his right once again empty. “Dude, we’re fine. We’ve talked a bit, and decided it’s stupid to hold a grudge today.”

Kise hums in agreement. “Ogiwaracchi is actually super amazing.” Then, just to prove how buddy-buddy they now are, Kise scoots over into the empty seat between them. Ogiwaracchi? Whatever, now Kuroko is giving him an impressed look so he’ll take it.

“It would be foolish to feud on such an important day. I’ve been meaning to give this to you, Aquarius’ are ranked ninth today.” Midorima says as he rummages through his pocket for a moment before pulling out a rubber thimble…what in the world? Is he talking about horoscopes? As far as he’s aware Kuroko couldn’t care less about them. Still, Kuroko takes the object gratefully and Shige decides this isn’t the time for questions.

“Thank you Midorima-kun, I’ll make sure not to lose it.” To which Midorima just huffs, and wow, he really is a genuine tsundere.

Crap, they’re starting to get off topic. “Anyways, as you can see we’re working through it. But seriously, are you alright? I mean, this was pretty sudden.” Last chance before he brings out the big guns.

Kuroko hesitates, which is promising but it’s proven to be for naught. “…Yes, I’ve already had a few days to process it. I’m sad, but she wouldn’t want me to wallow.”

Shige sighs. “I don’t know man. I mean, sometimes you just gotta sit still and let reality sink in. I was totally blindsided because, like, she was just 60. You don’t think about this kind of thing until they’re in their mid-seventies at least.” He may have some ulterior motives, but every word rings true. He…never seriously entertained the thought of mortality. It…put things in perspective.

Kuroko swallows, and he appears to be counting every dent and scratch in the wood table. “…I…We’ve had close calls before, like when she had that stroke. I’ve been thinking about it, and we’ve discussed the possibility before.”

That’s unsettling to hear. “Yeah but theory and reality are two different things. I mean, you can’t prepare for an aneurysm. Have you thought about what you’re going to do when your parent’s have to leave?” The audience is observing with wide eyes, their attention darting between them like they’re in the middle of an intense volley.

Kuroko finally lifts his eyes and turns to give him a hard stare. “Most things in life occur suddenly, and without warning. I’m not an infant Ogiwara-kun, I know how to take care of myself.” The way his last name comes out so clipped stings, but now there’s a bit of heat in his voice. Clear irritation means there’s a clear opening.

In a matter of seconds they go from locksmiths trying to finesse their way through, to firemen just kicking doors down. “Do you? She’s been with you for almost your entire life, and she just died. Forgive me for not believing you’re doing just fine. You can’t just ignore this Kuroko. She’s gone, and she isn’t coming back.”

Perhaps he should have thought this through a little better. Clearly he stabbed a little too deep and crossed a line, or Kuroko’s just changed this much. Either way, instead of getting teary eyed and a little frowny like he expected, Kuroko gets mad. Really mad.

His lips suddenly curl down into an angry scowl, eyebrows furrowed as he straight-up glares now. “Funny, I thought the same thing about you.”

He hears someone from the peanut gallery suck in a sharp breath. That hurt. That hurt a lot because there’s a grain of truth in there. Now he’s the one caught off-guard and there’s a knife jammed between his ribs. It’s rare that Kuroko throws shots, but he sure as hell knows where to aim. He was supposed to make Kuroko cry or something but now here he is, tearing up in front of Miracles again while Kuroko looks devastated. He’s been trying so hard not to think about that day, and here he is reliving it. It’s ironic that he’s kinda been doing the same damn thing as Kuroko. Focusing on _them_ and the past instead of talking about what happened between them, even after he promised to make things better. He fucked up, he knows he did.

Kuroko practically lunges at him, and he’s almost expecting a punch instead of his arms to wrap around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that. We promised, and I wouldn’t have bothered if I didn’t know you’d come back.” His voice is thick with tears and regret.

“I know.” But it’s still the truth. He just abandoned Kuroko. He heard about Kuroko’s disappearing act at the end of middle school and he learned from the best. “I-I’m sorry. I hurt you.” He finally lifts his arms to reciprocate the hug and it feels like he’s being strangled. Their initial greeting almost feels like a lie in hindsight. Things aren’t the same, they’ll never be the same but they can be better. He wants to work for a better future.

Kuroko’s every breath hitches in his ear, slowly loudening until it’s undeniable that he’s crying. He can’t imagine what kind of a mess they look like as they start sobbing in each other’s arms. “Y-You didn’t deserve that. I just-” His voice breaks, and Shige’s heart cracks with it. “I know. You- I can’t-…” Whatever he’s trying to say is incoherent, but the arms around him, squeezing him closer says enough. “Just don’t-” _Just don’t leave me again._

He holds on tighter and Kuroko buries his face into his shoulder, his stiff hair poking into his neck like pine needles but it’s okay. “I did. I know. I won’t, I promise.” It _hurts_ , it bleeds, it _burns_ his mouth because that used to be an unspoken oath.

He hears them stand as Momoi herds them away from the table. _‘Give them some space.’_ She says as she leads them elsewhere. With his eyes almost closed and his vision heavily blurred by tears, he can only tell them apart by their brightly coloured hair as they walk away. “I’m sorry.” He croaks, but Kuroko just shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that either-” He chokes on a breath and he has to take a second to cough. “I’m the worst.”

“You’re the _best_.” Kuroko corrects vehemently. “You- just _don’t_.” He nearly growls.

“I won’t. _Never_.” Never. He’ll say it as many times as he needs to hear it. Kuroko sighs, almost whimpers really, as he deflates. His grip loosens a bit but he leans into his shoulder more heavily. Their legs are tangled under the table, his arms are tired and Kuroko’s back must cramping from leaning out of his seat so awkwardly to hold on, but it’s perfect. They just pant, hiccup and sniffle for a moment.

This is going to take a little work, but it’s worth it. Tetsuya is always worth it.

“Sorry.” He hears Kuroko whisper. It fills him with exasperation to hear another apology, but it’s a lighter emotion. Fluffy and sweet like whipped cream. His eyes feel heavy and he would bet Kuroko feels twice as drowsy. With his eyes a little clearer he can see his mom standing just down the hall with Kuroko’s dad, watching them with a sad smile on her face.

Today has just been too much.

“I’m sorry too bud. I love you.”

A pause. Then, “I love you too Shige-kun.”

It’s going to be alright.

Everything’s going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About this chapter. I feel like it was a bit of a risk to have a long POV switch so soon, and with such an unpopular character, so it would be super helpful to get some feedback from you guys. Ogiwara is only in canon for like 5 minutes even including mentions, so I had to heavily rely on his sparse Wiki page and my imagination. I think he has a lot of emotional intelligence if he’s the one Kuroko goes to for advice, tho feel free to send some head canons and if it vibes with me, I’ll add it! A lot of you have been saying I write Kuroko’s apathy so well and it’s as nerve-wracking as it is flattering because this fic is supposed to be emotionally dynamic at certain points. Just let me know how this went and I’ll try to improve from there, thanks everyone! See you in two weeks!  
> Or sooner?


	6. Shingles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Shingles: (Also termed herpes zoster or zoster) is a disease caused by reactivation of a previous infection with the herpes zoster virus ([…]or chickenpox virus) that results in a painful localized skin rash._
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> [emedicinehealth](http://www.emedicinehealth.com/shingles/article_em.htm) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, another early and long update! I’m actually going on vacation for the next week to Barbados to visit some family, and I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging for a week with no explanation. You guys really killed me last chapter with all of your nice words, I smile every time I think about them. I was almost done the chapter too so I wrote this instead of sleeping. Sorry if there are errors! Just an FYI there are **no pairings** in this fic, just really close platonic relationships because there isn’t enough of that. ( ~~IamOgiKurotrashbutnothere)~~

Tetsuya is ready to go home.

He just feels…completely drained. Had that episode occurred any time before the end of the funeral, he's not sure how he would have made it through. He's holding Shige's hand as they trudge towards their parents, and he feels it's safe to assume his mother is heading the clean-up while Yachiru is waiting in the van for Shige and Rui to return.

"How are you boys feeling?" She asks softly.

He doesn't have anything left in him. He's cried himself empty and his internal well of words has run momentarily dry. He just shrugs his shoulders, meeting her warm gaze with his puffy eyes and he knows she understands. Since the Ogiwara's live with someone who's fairly hard of hearing they've become masters of nonverbal communication, which is relieving because sometimes for all of the vocabulary that's been drilled into his head, he just can't find his voice.

It feels nice to have someone able to speak for him again. "Not great. Kind of all over the place right now." Then Shige himself shrugs.

"Oh, babies." She looks distraught as she takes in their haggard appearances, Shige's ruffled, damp dress shirt and his gelled hair now temporarily stuck in disarray. She was looking at her son when she spoke, so Tetsuya is surprised when he too is swept into her embrace. He doesn't like physical contact, especially something as constricting as a hug but there's something soothing about the Ogiwara family. It feels less like a grapple, and more like…well, a _hug_ he supposes. It's nice. Warm. She always smells like fresh bread, and sometimes her clothes have spots of powder or crumbs all over them, not unlike her son's face. She always insists that he call her mom as well, but just 'Rui-san' is the closest he can bear to say.

He could fall asleep in her arms but instead he steps back the instant she lets go. Shige squeezes his hand before regretfully asking, "Time to go right?"

He knows he's being ridiculous, but he can't help but feel a stab of hurt. Obviously Shige can't stay glued to his side, but after hearing the words ' _Never, never again.'_ whispered into his ear like gospel just a few minutes ago it feels like a lie. He shouldn't be so dependent on Shige anyways, it's part of what ended up driving him away.

His father comes back into view, his face as cold and smooth as ice. "Rui-san and I were just discussing that. Would you like to spend the night with us?"

"Well, it's up to you two." She cuts in, her voice a mixture of worry and assurance. "If you think some space would be for the best, that's fine too, but you have options." He really likes Ogiwara's mom. She's always very considerate, a sweet and gentle woman who knows just what to say to put people at ease. She reminds him of Halmeoni.

Shige looks to him for their answer. His expression is tired but relaxed, and Tetsuya knows he'll take either choice with good grace and understanding, just as kind as the people who raised him. He gives his hand a squeeze.

"I'd be happy to spend the night if you'll have me." He says to his father with a slight grin.

His father looks to him for confirmation and he nods.

"Well I didn't bring your overnight stuff since this was so spontaneous, but I'm sure Tetsuya won't mind you borrowing a few things right?" She has a teasing lilt, and that familiar cheery gleam in her eyes is back full force. He and Shige used to share everything, from toys to secrets.

Shige matches her tone, perking up a bit like a flower to face the sun, soaking up her warmth. He gets elbowed in the ribs playfully as he says, "I think his clothes might be a little too small for me now."

Rude. Shige's smile only widens in the face of his ire and it makes him feel…a little brighter himself.

His attention is brought back to Shige's mother when she sighs loudly. "Sorry to leave so soon, but Ya-chan is sleeping in the car. She'll get nervous if she wakes up and I'm gone too long. Just text me when you need a pick up." She pulls them both into another hug and though much briefer, just as loving.

"It's alright, I can take the train back. I have my pass and I don't have any bags to drag around either, there's no need for you to come back down here." Shige assures her, but she still looks hesitant.

"Are you sure? I know you're going to wait until the last train, even though you have school Monday. It's an hour's ride, and then another twenty to walk home from the station- you know what, just text me or I'll tell you when I'm coming. It'll be too dark for my comfort by the time you just get _on_ the train." She came to a decision on her own, but Shige doesn't look put out by her instructions.

He smiles sweetly at her as he softly says, "Okay. Thanks Mom." She puts her hands on either side of his face to lean him down to her height and showers him with a flurry of forehead kisses.

She's still holding him close, looking him dead in the eyes as she matches his volume. "No problem kiddo. Behave."

"I will. Love you Mama."

"I love you too. Don't forget to text Ya-chan goodnight." She gives him one last lingering kiss on the cheek and Tetsuya wants to let go of his hand. He probably wants to give her one last hug before she leaves, and it'll be awkward if he's still attached. He only manages to loosen his grip before Rui takes him by surprise once more. She cradles his face in the same way she held Shige's, even though they're about the same height. Her honey gold eyes dripping with affection as she stares into his. "You be good too Tetsuya. I hope you take a good rest." And then she pops up on her toes to presses her lips to his forehead, sticky with gloss and they leave an imprint on his skin. He may be out of tears but his chest still feels like its constricting at the familiar gesture. He swallows hard.

She removes her hands but he can still feel the warmth of her palms. "You boys have fun." She uses both hands to ruffle their hair simultaneously, then turns to his father. He's been watching with an unreadable expression. "My heart goes out to you and your family Tsukiyo." She says in a respectful tone before walking back out the doors.

There's a pause as they're left unsure of what to do.

His father is just staring, looking him dead in the eyes with obvious no emotion. "You kids can wait in the car, we won't be long. I already turned on the heat, it should be warm by now." He can't interpret his tone or his expression, both so carefully neutral it's like he's feeling along a cool wall looking for the slightest chip that isn't there. He's being shut out and it leaves him feeling uneasy when he can't discern why.

He tries not to think about it and let's Shige thank him for the both of them, then he leads the way to the car. Earlier he watched as the spaces filled up and now, all that remains are tread marks frozen into the slush like fossils of a time long passed. It seems like his old teammates have taken off as well, probably while he was having a breakdown in the lobby with Shige, though it would've been awful if they wasted this much time waiting for him to pull it together. It's not snowing and the car isn't too far from the doors, but the wind is shrieking in his ears and already numbing his face. A light dusting of snow is covering one side of the vehicle, displaced there by the wind while they mourned and a bit of it falls into the car as he opens the backseat door. He pays it no mind and brushes it to the floor while Shige slides in from the other side without issue and as promised, the air circulating is comfortably toasty.

Since he's still in no mood for conversation, he pulls out his cellphone from an inner suit pocket to check the notifications. As suspected, they all left texts to give their farewell. Their words ranging from more condolences over Halmeoni, to wishing him and Shige the best on mending their friendship. Even back at 1 o'clock Kagami had sent a quick message of support, so he supposes he should at least send a brief _thank you_ to everyone in return. While he's texting it sounds like Shige has started playing some kind of game app on his phone, and once he finishes sending his texts, he watches Shige repeatedly fail to advance to the next level.

By the time his parents get to the car Shige has handed off the device to him, and he's willing to admit that the seemingly simplistic game is difficult and addicting. "You have to move the thing." Shige vaguely instructs, and when all the pieces are so small, it's kind of hard to know _which thing_ he's pointing at with his stubby fingers. "Th- The _thing_! You're going to die! Come on, move the thing!"

He has to throw his free hand in the air to say _'What thing!?'_ but in the time it takes to send Shige an incredulous look, the game over image is on the screen. He shoves it back into Shige's hands.

"What did I tell you, this game is bullshit!" Unfortunately, right as the cuss leaves his mouth his mother opens the door to climb in. She gives Shige a strong look of disapproval as she buckles into the driver's seat, his father taking the passenger's.

Shige colours a vibrant red and starts to sputter. "I- I- Uh, pardon my language! I'm really sorry about that." His mother then turns back to the front in silent acceptance and shifts the car from park to drive. He sees Shige narrow his eyes in irritation and internally cringes when he knows his mother caught that in the rear-view mirror.

He tells Shige her dislike isn't personal, but it's fairly obvious that it really is. It's just that the last thing he needs is validation when he isn't very fond of her himself. Without the pretext of being polite to each other he has no doubt Shige is going to get himself banned from his house, which is the last thing either of them want. Thankfully she doesn't comment on the attitude and just starts driving them home, letting the oppressive silence from the lack of radio do all the talking for her. He's used to ignoring such heavy atmospheres though, so with a little prompting he gets Shige to play another game and they weather the chill with little difficulty. When they finally pull up into the driveway he's almost dozing on Shige's shoulder, very comfortable watching him mess around on his phone with half-lidded eyes. He remembers when he was younger if he fell asleep on the drive home, one of his parents would free him from his car seat and carry him inside. He'd rest his head in the crook of their neck, letting the natural sway of their steps lull him back to sleep before they could even tuck him into bed. It's not that he still wants to be carried around and tucked in like that, but he feels a painful nostalgia for the time he held unwavering trust and natural intimacy with his parents. Shige wiggles his shoulder a bit to rouse him to a higher state of awareness, so he straightens and mentally prepares to get up.

"We're home." His mother announces as she returns the car to park and cuts the ignition. "Tetsuya, can you bring those bags in the trunk? Rui-san made us a few things."

He nods and climbs out of the car, a gust of wind immediately scratching at his face as if he's still in the vehicle moving full speed. Fortunately Shige is kind enough to wordlessly volunteer to assist and meets him at the trunk to take two of the four tote bags laden with containers of food. His mother has left the front door open for them to walk through, and she closes it behind them while they temporarily set down the parcels to take their shoes off. He's leading Shige into the kitchen to put away the food when he's hit with a sudden reminder of his father's nightly activities in lieu of sleep. He's caught sight of the recycling bin, sitting innocently next to the garbage can in a corner. It's not a large container, but it still fills him with mild embarrassment to see it's half full of beer bottles, and he hopes Shige won't take note of it if he ignores it himself. His dad is far from a drunkard but it wouldn't be hard to jump to such a conclusion if one saw all those empty drinks. At the very least he can take comfort in the fact that Shige can't know they're all from one night unless he chooses to divulge such information, which he won't.

Thankfully Shige doesn't even glance in that direction as he unpacks everything onto the table. "Sorry about all the food. I know you guys aren't going to finish all this before it goes bad, unless you throw a party or something. You know how my mom stress bakes. It's mostly just a variety of cupcakes, some mochi, wagashi, and quite a bit of dango too probably. I saw Ya-chan helping so you know there's going to be too much sauce on the mitarashi ones." He grumbles, but unlike him Tetsuya also likes a lot of sugar so he's not complaining. It sounds like she really pulled out all the stops though, and he'll try his best to sample everything before it starts to spoil. "Oh, and my dad said you can keep the containers and stuff, so don't worry about bringing them back."

His mouth feels lax enough to whisper. "Thank you." He says quietly as he shoves a few of the boxes into the fridge. His mother can rearrange them as she likes, but she can't say he didn't try. He leaves the desserts that will survive at room temperature on the counter and he doesn't have to guide Shige to his room even after all of this time.

He whistles as he looks around. "I like what you did with the place." He says with an impressed tone, though all he did over the past three years is clutter it with more trinkets and basketball posters. "Still building that library I see." He notes as he runs a finger down the spine of a book.

He hears the jingle of Nigou's collar moments before he comes barreling into his room, paws scrabbling for purchase on the glossy wood floor as he jumps around Shige's legs. "Oooh my god! Dude you got a dog!?" He has to make a hushing gesture to remind Shige to stop yelling.

However, he purposefully chooses to interpret it as, "The dog is a secret your mom doesn't know about, so I have to keep quiet and participate in a series of shenanigans to cover for the spunky dog's antics?"

He gives Shige the flattest stare he's capable of producing.

It just makes him laugh though, his cheeks indenting with dimples as he grins widely. "I'm kidding, I know, I'll keep it down. Seriously though, dude. I thought your mom said no pets?" Shige gets on his knees to take a closer look at Nigou, who starts lapping at his face excitedly, almost nipping at his chin.

Tetsuya sits next to them and Nigou spares him a few happy licks before returning to Shige, the new friend to investigate and beg for scratches from. "She was in Osaka to meet with my grandfather at the time. I found him in a box on the street and brought him home about eight months ago. Halmeoni took me to the vet with him to get a checkup, and he was about a year old at the time. My teammates at Seirin helped me come up with the name Nigou."

Shige holds Nigou's head still as he peers into the dog's eyes. "Nigou huh? Fitting. If you weren't right next to me, I'd think you'd been reincarnated. Though I suppose time travel could be a factor here…or a trans-dimensional being?" He then squints at the dog with suspicion in his gaze, but it's obvious he's just being silly.

"Nigou is a dog, not a god. An alusky to be precise." Said alusky has rolled onto his back and is eagerly awaiting a belly rub.

Shige happily indulges him. "The heck is an alusky?"

"An Alaskan malamute crossed with a husky." He's temped to take a photo of them playing but as he remembers his phone is still in his suit jacket, he also realizes Shige must want to change his clothes. With a quiet grunt he rises to his feet again, the hard floor unforgiving on his knees, and goes to his dresser in order to find something Shige's size.

"How did a dog from Alaska get to Tokyo?" He hears him ask as he digs through a drawer.

He has a pair of sweat pants that should fit… "Dogs aren't region locked Shige-kun. It would certainly take some paperwork and time, but it's not impossible. And it's unlikely that either of Nigou's parents actually came from Alaska since it's just a breed name. Would you prefer a t-shirt or a hoodie?" He just uncovered a tan cheetah printed one that should also fit Shige no problem. It's identical to the black and white panda one he likes to wear on particularly cold nights, very soft and oversized.

"Uuuuh…sweater. Thanks man." He pulls out the article as requested and manages to find the pants he was searching for as well.

"You're welcome." He says as he throws the clothing at Shige's head. While the pants bounce off of his chest, the sweater does obscure his vision as hoped for.

"Hey!" He takes it off of his head to get a better look at what hit him, and his face brightens in delight. "Oh my gosh, this is so cute! The hood has little ears!" He's practically squealing as he inspects it.

"My grandmother – not Halmeoni – gave it to me." Two years ago for Christmas and he still hasn't finished growing into it. He's not sure how she overestimated the size by this much but then again, she couldn't have anticipated his rate growth very accurately when he only sees his maternal grandparents twice a year at most. Better too large than too small. "She sent it with a matching panda one." He says as he begins to undress, carefully hanging his suit jacket and he takes a moment to ponder if he has a few hangers to spare for Shige.

"Wear it! Bro, match with me!" He demands as he just pulls his dress shirt over his head rather than unbuttoning it. It's so wrinkled in consequence that Tetsuya has an offer to iron it stuck on the tip of his tongue. He planned on wearing a t-shirt to bed, but he supposes he could stand a bit of extra heat. He wears his usual black basketball patterned pajama pants and he's glad to find the clothes he loaned to Shige fit properly as well.

"Flip your hood up!" Shige orders excitedly, his hood already over his head and Tetsuya can't help but indulge him. "Dude. Dude, we have to take a picture." This is ridiculous.

Normally he would refuse all together but he's actually having fun with Shige, and he definitely needs something lighthearted after today. Besides, Shige has already taken out his phone and almost runs to his side to snap a picture before Tetsuya can throw himself out of the frame. Shige draws the device close to his chest to get a look at the image before he says, "One more, one more. It's kinda blurry." So he stands still and looks into the camera as desired. Shige is rapidly tapping his thumb against the digital button, making no effort to hide the fact that he's actually taking enough photos for a flipbook. Yet he can't complain because it's been years since they've taken a picture together, and it would be very nice to have a recent photo. He didn't think he could have this again. He gets a taste of it when he's with Kagami, but even then quite a bit of their relationship revolves around basketball. He's really does love basketball as much as everyone else but with so many bad memories lingering around, it's good to have someone he can step away from it with.

Shige is still snapping away and Tetsuya watches as their smiles grow in each image with such fondness it feels like his heart is swelling. It would make a great animation if Shige bothered to string them together, or perhaps he could ask his dad. He would probably be able to edit them into fantastic album worthy shots. Soon the pictures grow blurrier as Shige's arm shakes with laughter and Tetsuya is drowning in nostalgia. This is…

"I missed this." Shige says warmly, a dopey smile on his face as he looks at him. He tucks away his cellphone with a content sigh.

"I missed it too." Everything feels a little less daunting, a little less real, less painful.

There's a pause in conversation, and in the quiet their smiles fade. Shige's eyes are still kind but there's a painful weight on his mind that drags down his cheery expression into a distant, wistful look; like they're suddenly miles apart again. He licks his lips once…twice, then opens his mouth to speak. However his words are halted by three brisk knocks on his bedroom door, more of a formality than a genuine request for entrance or warning when his mother opens the door immediately after. She looks a little taken aback by their childish choice of apparel, but refrains from commenting on it.

"Are you boys hungry?" She doesn't step into the room, just stands in the doorway.

Shige just shrugs and looks to him, so he takes that as a ' _Not very.'_ And he doesn't desire a full meal either so he says, "I think we're both okay. Thank you mother." He should probably still eat something though, since he's only had two slices of toast and three cups of tea today.

"Very well. There's food in the fridge if you get hungry. Don't stay up too late." She says before she re-closes his door. It's just after five PM but it sounds like she said goodnight. She's probably going into her office and he's likely not going to see her again until morning, though it's hard not to think of it as anything but a weight off of his back.

He turns back to Shige but it seems like the moment has passed. They're definitely going to talk about it soon because Shige usually isn't one to let things stew, but for now it appears he has decided to save it for later. "Cupcakes for dinner?" He asks instead.

"Sure."

 

* * *

 

Since he doesn't see his father in the living room or the kitchen, he can only assume he's finally gone to sleep. He prepares the tea using more traditional methods rather than commercial bags for the sake of ritual and distraction, finding comfort in the familiar motions. For Shige's sake he uses an assortment of repaired cups and a random teapot rather than one of the faultless sets they have stored away. Shige always gets nervous about breaking them, and his anxiety isn't totally unwarranted when he's naturally clumsy and has a history of dropping them. Carefully, he pours the steaming tea into their cups and gently places Shige's drink in front of his empty seat.

There are quite a few confections to choose from but as suggested, he asked for Shige to pick a cupcake for him.

"We made this one for you specifically. Well we made most of them with you in mind, but we thought you'd like these ones the best." Says Shige with his back to him, busy plating a few for them to eat. "It's a white cake with chantilly cream and white chocolate shavings on top, plus a custard filling. All vanillia flavoured of course." He has no clue what type of icing chantilly is but he's sure it'll taste great. "I'm having the triple chocolate. Chocolate cake, chocolate chips and fudge icing. Plus a glazed strawberry on top." Shige has a wicked grin on his face as he puts the dish on the table, a large plate with six cupcakes on it, three of each. He loves sweets but he can't take that much chocolate at once, even with the assistance of tea to wash it down.

"Thank you very much Shige-kun." He says as he takes one of the vanilla.

"Thank _you_ Tsuya." Shige mimics as he sweetens his tea.

Tetsuya takes a moment to appreciate the aroma of the brew. Holds the cup under his nose and allows the wafting steam to loosen his chest, the clear scent of peppermint pleasing to the senses and refreshing. It's too hot to drink though, so he sets down the cup and goes for the cupcake. It really is a shame the Ogiwara's moved, he's able to recognize now that he was living the dream back then. They always went back to Shige's house for snacks.

Shige swallows the first bite of his cupcake, and already he has a bit of icing around his mouth. "So…I wanted to talk to you…" He sounds nervous.

"You haven't stopped talking all day." Tetsuya quips in response.

Shige glares at him, but he's more relaxed. Jokes always put him at ease. "And you need to shut up. _Anyways_ …I wanted to talk about earlier. Like…what happened in middle school." He says quietly.

It's like he spoke the words of a dark ritual and summoned something otherworldly. The atmosphere turned tense so abruptly it's as if sudden wind blew out the metaphorical candles.

"Okay." Is all that Tetsuya can think to say.

There's a pause as they size each other up, watching every movement for a sign of weakness. They're both uneasy, sizing each other up to get a read on the situation. Does Shige want an apology? If not for what happened this afternoon, then that last game? Is _he_ going to apologize? Not that he hasn't already, and his reaction was perfectly understandable…the best option is to let Shige speak first and act accordingly.

Shige sighs and rests his elbows on the table, then cradles his messy face in his hands, getting chocolate on his palms. "To be honest, I'm not sure how things got so bad."

Tetsuya knows how everything fell apart with too much clarity, can think of a thousand ways he could have tried harder to stop that tragedy, but at least now he can say it couldn't have resolved itself any better.

"I mean…First I moved away, and I was worried you didn't need me anymore. Your mom makes you go to this fancy prep school where you make a bunch of friends, and I'm just this guy. I know you literally don't care about that elitist kinda junk, but like…I know your mom liked them better, and you had so many new friends to pick from, why would you need me when I'm so far away?" He makes a small shrugging motion with one shoulder.

Tetsuya has a million and one reasons as to why all of that is absurd, and most of them are selfish but they're true. He may find people like him, but Shige is so special to him that the idea of genuinely replacing him - any of his friends actually - is impossible.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much to find out that he himself was entirely unnecessary to them.

Redundant.

Obsolete.

"But we kept in contact even before we could text, so there was never any serious doubt. I guess things started to change after the first Nationals. The one where my school didn't make it. I was never jealous, don't get me wrong! I was seriously proud of you but…it kinda just poked at that feeling of not good enough, y'know?"

He remembers that day. He was disappointed to find out that they wouldn't get to meet on the court that year, and he felt awful for him. But his sympathy was quickly eclipsed by elation when Teiko kept winning games and swept the whole tournament, and even if his role was comparatively minor he still felt invincible.

Desirable.

Worthy.

Shige pauses to take a sip of his drink, and Tetsuya does the same at the reminder. It's still hot, but not enough to scald his tongue. He clears his throat, then continues to speak. "So I worked harder and we actually make it to Nationals this time. We run into one of the strongest teams in the bracket and lose. I was a bit closer to standing on that court with you. But again, it just wasn't enough…" He shrugs again and he doesn't look upset, a duck shaking water off of its back. "Then I hear things are getting a little rocky with you and Aomine. Just…I loved hearing about all your new friends because I never wanted you to be lonely after I left but…It kinda sucked 'cause like…I really wished I was there y'know? You don't talk about yourself. I worried about you, and it seemed like things were really bad if you were asking for help. That year was just...frustrating. Weird. Tense. I don't know, sorry I'm all over the place, I'm kind of just rambling. I…I don't know, you're stonewalling me here." Shige gives him a helpless and pleading look.

It's been so ingrained into his being that he has to make a conscious effort to express his emotions most of the time. He didn't even realize he's probably been giving Shige this blank-faced stare, and it's no wonder he looks so uncomfortable. What's reassuring? Definitely not a smile at the moment. He's not sure how to look more approachable. Perhaps speech is his best option. "I'm listening. I think I'm following."

Shige licks his lips, gets a taste of chocolate from the corner of his mouth and wipes his face somewhat clean with a frown at the mess. "The third Nationals though…"

The kitchen goes silent and only the hum of the refrigerator can be heard.

"I worked so hard to be able to meet you on that court." He shrugs dispassionately again, his expression nonchalant but his eyes are vacant now, staring blankly into his tea. He looks haunted. "I even became the team's ace and _finally_ , we were going to play together. I was well aware that we were outclassed, especially since you guys were two-time reigning champs by then, but it was never about beating you, or even them. I mean, that would've been pretty great but that wasn't the goal. I just-" _wanted to meet you on equal ground._ "I just wanted to have fun together. I'm not blaming you for taking an elbow to the face and getting proper medical care, but I was disappointed. Did you know I visited you while you were unconscious?"

This is news.

A bitter grin momentarily resides on his face. "So he still didn't tell you huh? Figures." He snorts and shakes his head.

Tetsuya's blood runs cold. "What happened? Who didn't tell me?" The words leave his mouth before he can stop himself. He knows if he's just patient Shige will answer any questions he has, but it feels like he's running through that long corridor all over again. Like he just woke up from a deep slumber to a feeling a dread in his gut, because he told them to take this seriously but he _knows they won't listen to someone like him anymore-_

"Akashi. I was leaving the med bay after Momoi told me you hadn't woken up. We talked." Of course it was Akashi.

"What did he say?" His voice is icy and demanding, but still level. Every time he manages to finish rationalizing what Akash's done, something new gets brought to the surface and another layer of malice is unveiled.

Now Shige looks apprehensive. "Look, I'm not telling you this because I want you to hate him. I'm tired of seeing you get hurt, I just want you to understand what happened between us on my end."

It's good to hear this isn't some twisted revenge scheme – not that he ever thought Shige was the type – but that doesn't numb the pain of a fresh lash of betrayal. "…What did he do?" Tetsuya asks resignedly before finally taking another bite of his cupcake. Fresh, moist, delicious as expected.

"He guessed who I was pretty quickly. He told me you definitely weren't going to be playing, even if you woke up in time." He shakes his head, takes a small bite of his cupcake. "I don't know why I stopped him when he was about to walk past me. I guess it's because it was like he was looking _through_ me. Like I wasn't even good enough to look down on."

Tetsuya is familiar with that feeling. Of being the ant under Akashi's spying glass, the dog with a treat on its nose told to sit still. He knows how it feels to be unworthy of his attention until he deigns to interact with you for his amusements or machinations.

"I asked him if he even feels happy playing basketball. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't taking us seriously, but I could've taken that loss if he actually gave a damn about what was going on. I told him that Teiko's reputation proceeded it, and told him there's more to playing then just winning."

That was a mistake. That was just asking for Akashi to toy with him, equivalent to dangling a string in front of a cat's face.

Shige seems to read his mind, and chuckles. "Yeah, I know now. That was stupid. He said focusing on having fun is what losers do to make themselves feel better. In a way that's kinda right, but it must have been maddening doing the same thing over and over when you don't even like it. It's just like spitting in everyone face, the way they blatantly said they were bored and then proceeded to wipe the floor with people and say the same thing afterward."

It sounds like real insanity when he phares it like that. Yet at the time it seemed like the only thing he _could_ do was play. Because if he stopped playing, stopped winning, then he was as good as dead. Had he been less endearing like Haizaki, less passive, he's certain Akashi would have found someone to take his place much sooner. He eventually did reach a point where he just couldn't do it anymore, but by then they were all dead inside regardless of victory.

"Anyways I told him that obviously losing sucks, but it also pushes you to work harder and savour the wins. And he basically said, keep telling yourself that when you lose. I've been paraphrasing most of this 'cause it's been a while, but that's basically what happened. Then he outright admitted he wasn't taking us seriously, and continued heading to your room. I told him to tell you that we're definitely going to play together again. But I'm guessing the message wasn't delivered."

No, Akashi delivered his own message to both of them.

"I just…that _game_." Shige rubs his eyes tiredly. "I put my all into that game Tsuya. Every basket was supposed to be a point to him and for you. We may not have been equals but we were finally on the same court, even if you yourself weren't there." He chokes out a wet laugh, a small and injured sound that reminds him of a dying bird struggling to move its wings. "It was such a punch in the face to find out every basket we managed to score with sweat and _tears,_ was _given_ to us. It was humiliating. That score was humiliating from the start, but I could have looked at it with pride knowing we clawed those points out of their hands for ourselves. I…Tsuya, I hated basketball because it meant people like them would always exist. There's always someone better than you, but when they destroy everything you've worked for _without a care_ -" Shige's crying. He has that same wrecked look in his eyes, he's not sobbing like earlier but it's just as gut wrenching watching each tear slowly roll down. "I-I…I thought we were standing on the same court, when I couldn't even graze their feet. I felt so stupid."

Tetsuya is in shock.

That's atrocious. Akashi really went above and beyond to hurt Shige, and by extension, him as well. It was one – still quite awful – thing when they crushed peoples' spirits in ignorance, too blinded by their arrogance to notice. But this- this is- that was beyond deliberate. Akashi went out of his way to grind Shige into what he saw him as. Nothing. He purposefully took his hard work and perverted it into a mockery of a game. It was horrid enough when he thought Akashi simply designed that challenge to keep them motivated to play, but it was really just a calculated personal attack…

"I…I'm so sorry." Tetsuya croaks. It's so inadequate for all the pain they've caused but it's all he has to offer right now.

Shige wipes his face dry using the sleeve of his sweater. "I don't want your apology either. It's not your fault Tsuya, you did your best. And it doesn't answer for what I did either. It just…hurt me a lot. They were monsters. Fuck, they still kind of are in my eyes. I'm glad they're having fun now, but that- sorry, this is starting to get off topic. I just…Your eyes were dead like theirs. Not cold, but I could tell you were twice as miserable."

He always tries not to think about what happened to those kids who dragged themselves off the court with empty eyes. It's not like he can track down every member of every team they played against, especially when they don't live in this prefecture. He just keeps telling himself they'll get over it, they'll bounce back, but he knows they ruined lives. He's finally seeing first-hand just how real the damage is to other players on a personal level. Beyond just disbanding middle school basketball teams, which is pretty extreme in itself.

Shige carries on, sloshing around the tea in its cup as he carefully slides it about the table. "I know when to quit, but I knew you would be too stubborn to give up with the right incentive. I'm not saying I'm some altruistic saint who left to make you step up or whatever. I'm saying I ran away to lick my wounds in private, but I knew you'd work through things on your own, because you always do. That was a massive dick move though, because you needed me and I just left you a cryptic message and forgot a wristband. At the very least I shouldn't have ignored you, just because I knew you'd _'get over it.'_ " He even does the air-quote gesture with his fingers to emphasize. "And by the time I was ready to talk to you again, I was too nervous. I pretty much punished you for something you had no part in or control over. I'm the one who should be apologizing, and I _am_ sorry." Shige finishes forcefully.

Tetsuya needs to sit there for a moment, because it's a lot to absorb. He's starting to think this conversation really could have waited for tomorrow at the very least. The funeral already put him out of sorts, and with all of this additional information he's ready for everything to just _stop_.

As much as he wants to call Akashi and demand answers, he's just too wrung out. It's also not right to suddenly get mad at him. It wasn't the real him doing all of those horrible things and he already apologized to everyone for his other self's behaviour, and they had accepted it. He's just as traumatized by their time in Teiko as everyone else, if not more so when it manifested into a serious mental illness. Obviously something far more sinister was occurring in the background for him to develop something this severe, but that's all the more reason to forgive him since he's still able to recognize and take responsibility for the wrongs he committed. Really, it's in the past and if he gets mad at Akashi _now_ he'll just be causing problems.

Just forget about it.

It's in the past now.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Akash is sorry, and that's the end of it.

Just forget about it.

It's in the past now.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Akash is sorry, and that's the end of it.

Just forget about it.

It's in the past now.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Akash is sorry, and that's the end of it.

He keeps repeating the mantra in his head as he stares deep into his teacup. There are dregs of tea leaf particles in the cup, some of it caught in the glittering silver-lined crack in the bottom. Trapped in the fissure until the cup is rinsed out.

It's in the past now.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Just forget about it.

Akashi is sorry.

It doesn't matter anymore.

That's the end of it.

Just forget about it.

It doesn't matter anymore.

He's sorry, and that's the end of it.

He's sorry.

The end.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Forget about it.

It doesn't matter.

Forget it.

He's sorry.

Sorry.

"Tetsuya?" Shige looks very worried. Brows furrowed and mouth tugged down into a different frown.

He can feel the corner of his mouth twitching slightly in sympathy.

Sorry.

Shige swallows hard but he hasn't taken a bite or a sip of their mid-eve snack. "…Maybe we should just go to bed." He suggests carefully.

"Please. Sorry." He manages to push out. Then he realizes he still hasn't given a response to his heartfelt apology. "I wasn't mad. Not at you, anyways. I forgive you though." The words do nothing to ease Shige's distress but at this point he can't stretch himself to make any kind of joke. It feels like his face will crack if he tries to smile.

He folds his arms on the table and uses them as a pillow while Shige works on clearing the table, putting back the untouched cupcakes and dumping out the unfinished tea. He quietly washes the dishes and Tetsuya can imagine the way the water feels rolling over his skin, warm and soothing. His hands feel dry. The hood of his sweater – which neither of them had lowered, even through that serious discussion – does a moderate job of shading his eyes from the kitchen light, affixed right above the middle of the table on the ceiling. Shinning bright and silent, unblinking. Filament glowing white hot.

The bulb is probably hot enough burn if he touches it.

Shige taps him on the back to get his attention. He's quick to notice the water has stopped running and the dishes are done, and Shige's ready to get to bed. It takes effort, he uses the table for leverage and still stumbles, but he walks back to his room with Shige at his side. Every time he blinks he can still see the light, almost like a will-o wisp floating in the dark hallway. They have a few spare futons stashed around the house and they even have two guest rooms, but he knows Shige doesn't mind sharing his bed, he might even prefer it. He can see the outline of Nigou, asleep in the middle of the floor in his dark room. He's careful to step around him, and is glad Shige takes care to do so as well. He peels back the covers and scoots to the farthest end of the bed, leaving the blanket folded open in invitation.

Shige hesitates to follow. He understands the amount of trust being bestowed upon him when Tetsuya likes his space, especially when he sleeps. They used to share beds all the time back in elementary school when they had sleepovers. At first it was because the spare futon the Ogiwara's had enough dust to trigger his asthma, but with time they became so accustomed to sharing space. Helping each other through nightmares and trying to pull all-nighters by whispering until midnight, that it just felt pointless and boring to separate. Slowly, Shige eases himself into the bed, pulls the blanket over them properly and just lies there staring. His face is dark, barely outlined in silver by the dim moonlight.

"I wasn't mad." Tetsuya repeats. The words come out smoother this time, and even though they are just as genuine as the first, it's easier to believe. "I'm not mad, just…overwhelmed. Today has been long." So long it's hard to reconcile that this morning and this evening are all part of the same day.

"Okay. Thank you." Shige says softly.

It's quiet. His cold toes are slightly touching Shige's warm feet but he doesn't flinch away or cry out. There's less space between them now that they've grown but some things just haven't changed. Wearing colourful animal hoodies and sharing a bed with Shige again, it feels like he's back in elementary school. And the heavy silence reminds him of the sleepover after Halmeoni's stroke. Quiet, sad, uneasy, but companionable.

"Goodnight Shige-kun." He whispers.

"Goodnight Tsuya." He echoes. Then he closes his eyes.

He can see one of Shige's hands resting between them. Wonders for a moment if it's a good idea, if it's bothersome or clingy. Then ultimately decides it's okay to be needy just this once. He rests his hand atop of Shige's. Without opening his eyes or looking the slightest bit startled, Shige rotates his hand so they're palm to palm, and loosely interlaces their fingers. He squeezes once, reassuringly.

It's going to be alright.

Everything's going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 hours of sleep yesterday, 3 for tomorrow! I’m so tired )-(o  
> I’ll fix mistakes when I get back. Please leave lots of kind things for me to come home to! Tho criticism is useful too, just be gentle. The next chapter will probably be late since I'm losing a week.


	7. Dyspraxia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Dyspraxia is a difficulty with organising and directing the body to perform a motor skill (movement) needed to correctly carry out the steps in a process and to ensure that a task is performed in the most efficient way."_   
>  [Childdevelopment.com](https://childdevelopment.com.au/areas-of-concern/diagnoses/dyspraxia/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apologies if you've already seen this chapter yesterday, I've had to repost.)
> 
> Wow. Hey. It’s been just over a month huh? Sorry about that, a lot has happened. Uh, I had a bit of writers block at one part, and my dog of 13 years died a few days after I got home so that lowered the ol’ motivation a bit more. It was 2 days after his 15th birthday, so I know his last days were good ones and he lived a happy life. I’m totally okay, took some time to recharge and I’m sleeping like a human again. Life is funny like that. It’s been a solid reminder that even though I’ve never been exactly in Kuroko’s shoes, I’m still writing from a personal place and I hope you’re able to connect to parts of this story as well. Thank you very much for the concern, and I am still overwhelmed by the amount of support you all left for me to come back to!

His eyes open the moment he wakes.

 The room is dimly lit by the blue light of day as it glows through his window. Snow birds are chirping in the distance, quiet enough from here to sound tranquil rather than obtrusive in the early morning. It appears that sometime in the night he retracted his hand and rolled over, taking quite a bit of the blanket with him. There's probably not much left to cover Shige, but it doesn't seem to bother him while he's texting. Tetsuya is facing away from him so he is unable to actually see it, but he can hear the quiet clicks of his tiny phone keyboard. Shige has always been an early riser, probably used to getting up and helping his parent open the bakery. 

He's still quite...unhappy with what Akashi did. But what right does he have to hold a grudge if even Shige is starting to work towards some level of reconciliation? Perhaps he could find some time to discuss it with him, but for now he has to keep in mind that the real Akashi would have never done that. Not that he could blame everything on the other Akashi either, because everyone played a part and did their misdeeds of their own violation. Himself included.

Inaction is an action in itself, just as bad or perhaps worse in some aspects.

The clicking stops. "Tsuya?" He hears Shige whisper.

After a moments pause, he decides against playing possum. He rolls back over to face his childhood friend and inadvertently winds himself tighter in the blankets. Just as he thought, Shige is sitting up, wide awake with his phone held in a loose grip. "Good morning." His voice is rough from sleep and disuse, so he clears his throat in hopes that will help.

Shige smiles at him. "Mornin', sleep well? I've been up since like, six. Tried going back to sleep but I was too awake. It was actually really funny, you woke up at like eight and asked if you’re late for school. Then you went right back to sleep before I could say anything." He doesn't recall a second of that, but it sounds like something he would do. 

However, the way he told the story makes it sound like it's now well past eight. "What time is it?" Asks Tetsuya as he begins to work at untangling himself. Shige probably could have helped, but instead he just watches him roll around with an amused look on his smug face.

He does spare him a glance at his phone though. "It's a bit after ten."

A bit after ten? He's been waiting for about four hours then. He almost falls out of his bed, but he does manage to unbind himself. "You're still welcome to help yourself to anything in the house, you didn't need to wait for me if you're hungry. Or you could have woken me."

His concern is waved away. "It's cool, you need all the sleep you can get Suya-Suya. I actually knocked over your lamp and you just rolled over, so I figured you were really conked out."

He supposes the last few days of poor sleep have caught up to him. He's usually a rather light sleeper, so if something as loud as a table lamp clattering on wood flooring didn't wake him, he must have been more exhausted than he realized.

"Besides," Shige continues, "Your mom was in the kitchen when I wanted to grab something, and by the time she left I was too lazy to bother." In that case it's probably for the best that he stayed put. His father is either still sleeping or he's working in their bedroom, but whichever the case he's out of the way as well. He shouldn't make Shige wait for food any longer.

Tetsuya raises his arms, careful of his friend's face as he stretches. "I'm up now. Is rice porridge okay?" It won't have as much flavour or texture as Juk, but it's essentially the same thing but less work to make.

Besides, he'll never be able to make it like Halmeoni.

Shige snorts as he almost literally leaps out of bed. "That's alright dude, I'll make breakfast."

 What's that supposed to mean?

"Hey, no need to get testy. I just want breakfast before it’s time for diner, you're slow in the kitchen. You can turn a 15 minute recipe into a half-hour task." He's turned away from Shige after rolling out of bed with far less enthusiasm, and Shige still knows he's glaring at a wall instead of his face.

This kind of criticism is unnecessary. "I can cook just fine..." Tetsuya mutters to himself. Slow, and maybe a little inattentive he'll concede, but he gets the job done.

"I know dear." Shige says in a placating tone. It makes him want to throw a pillow at the back of his big head.

 

In the end they settle on making omurice, with Shige preparing the rice while he cooks the omelets to go on top. They found some leftover rice in the fridge so they didn't have to start completely from scratch, fortunately for Shige, whose stomach has started to become vocal in its demands for nourishment. He's currently whisking some eggs in a bowl as Shige pushes around the rice to let it fry evenly. He doesn't even protest when Shige just dumps in pinches of various seasonings, he just mixes it into the egg as needlessly instructed. Clearly his assistance isn’t really required when there is a mixer just in the cupboard, but he supposes this is a good bonding opportunity.

The skillet is hot enough to pour the liquid into, so he empties half of the bowl and just let's it cook for a moment. As he waits, Shige steps aside from the stove top to quickly chop up some baby carrots he also managed to dig up. He doesn't have as much artistry in the kitchen as Kagami, but he certainly gets the job done just as efficiently. He haphazardly tosses the tiny bits into his pan and continues mixing, while Tetsuya starts to poke at the eggs before they overcook.

"So how’re you feeling today?" Shige's tone is light but Tetsuya knows this is a probing question.

 He pauses to think, runs a mental diagnostics as he listens to the pop and sizzle of the food. He feels...off balance. Better than before, but still not great. Just...muted again. He's not quite sure how to explain it so he settles for saying, "I'm recovering."

Shige nods in satisfaction with his answer. "That's good. You seemed pretty overwhelmed yesterday. Like, half of that was my fault but like, today let's just relax yeah?"

Tetsuya hums in agreement, lightly scrambles the omelette some more.

There's a pause. He can see Shige opening and closing his mouth, starting and stopping words from coming out of his mouth. Clearly he wants to say something controversial.

"Just ask."

He looks both guilty and relieved. "I'm sorry, I just said today was going to be chill but I just remembered. What was up with you and Mi-Suk-san?" 

Of course. Shige is too nosey for his own good. “…We were just reminiscing.” He isn’t pleased by the same ambiguous answer and turns his pleading eyes onto Tetsuya’s, silently asking him to truly confide in him. “…We were talking about Halmeoni.” Shige hums in acknowledgement, prompting him to continue. “Apparently Mi-Suk-san and a couple of other people were planning a surprise birthday party.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Her birthday is – was - still several months away but these things need planning in advance, especially when they had hoped to take her on a trip to Korea. His grandmother had promised to take him there for his eighteenth birthday, but he thinks it would’ve been better if she had the chance to go back sooner. He doesn’t know if she still has living friends and family, but he knows it would have meant the world to her if they had been able to reconnect, or just visit at the very least.

“Watch the omelette.” Shige reminds him, and he quickly lifts part of it off of the pan to get a peek at the colour. A bit dark, but not burnt. “Hang on a sec, let me just,” Tetsuya moves his pan off of the burner as Shige packs some of the rice into a little cup. He tips it upside-down on a plate and the rice is left shaped in a mound for him to put the egg on top of. He causes the structure to crumble a bit, but they aren’t getting judged on presentation so it’s fine. He pours out the rest of the mix into the skillet and sets it back on the burner to be cooked.

He could have gotten away with just saying this much, but Shige is the only one he feels comfortable sharing his deepest feelings with. If he doesn’t talk to Shige now, he’s not sure if he’ll ever unburden himself of them.

“Then she mentioned the Lunar New Year’s, and it reminded me of everything else she’s going to miss.” All the milestones in his life that he had planned to share with her. Introducing new friends, driver’s license, basketball games, graduations, family trips. Even just the quiet nights, early mornings and afternoon naps…all gone. The thing about constants is that one always expect them, and when change comes, it comes hard. It’s the earth splitting open beneath one’s feet when it has always held steady, the old oak felled in a storm, the shattering of glass.

He remembers a bit too late to start scrambling the eggs. It’s not ruined, but the shape won’t come out as nicely as the first one. Oh well, Shige can still have this one since it’s not as dark as the other one yet.

Shige starts to pack more rice in preparation. “Oh…man that’s…really tough. It might not mean much, but I’m totally here for you. I’m happy to listen any time you wanna talk, alright?” He says gently. He should probably find at least his tone a bit condescending, but he knows Shige really means what he says with utmost sympathy.

“Okay. Thank you.” He replies as he tops off the last omurice with egg.

Since the skillet hadn’t cooled it didn’t take the second omelette long to cook, and both servings are still hot by the time they’re ready. All that’s left is Shige’s favourite part; the ketchup.

“Let me do yours and you can do mine!” He says excitedly as he pulls the less browned dish towards him. He feels bad about being given the nicer one, but it also has less rice underneath, so clearly Shige had planned for it from the beginning. He has no idea what to write on it. On the rare occasion they have omurice, no one in his family really bothers with designs beyond a zig-zag of ketchup to cover the omelette. They only have one bottle and Shige says he can’t ruin the surprise, so he busies himself with setting the table.

He can hear Nigou ambling around somewhere in the house, the distinct sound of his claws against wood carrying in the short distance. Likely lured in close by the smell of food and the sound of people, he jaunts into the kitchen bright eyed and bushy tailed. There’s not much to set up when only two people are dining, so he decides to bide him time with Nigou, and crouches down to give the dog his full attention. As a young child he had always begged and pleaded for a pet to keep him company. It got lonely and boring staying home alone when he was moderately unwell, and Halmeoni didn’t move in with them until he was six. She had visited often to keep him entertained when he was confined to bedrest, but in the gaps between visits he often had nothing to do but colour and stare out windows. He had never known how much an animal could mean to someone until he became a pet owner himself. He didn’t expect the depth of loyalty and unconditional love, but it’s obvious now that the affection he gives will be returned two-fold.

If he is good to Nigou, Nigou will always be good to him.

 Clean and simple.

“Done!” He hears Shige declare. “Your turn, Tsuya!” He gives Nigou one last pat before he returns to the designated counter space. Tetsuya sees Shige so hunched over his work that he’s is more worried about him getting ketchup on his shirt, than uncovering the secret he’s trying to hide. He makes a show of covering his eyes and turning away to satisfy his friend’s desire for secrecy, and Shige scuttles past the potential field of his not-so-prying gaze with the food in tow.

He really doesn’t see much point in doing this since it’s going to get messed up almost instantly, but he’s heard Murasakibara lecture about the importance of food presentation enough to know that half of the culinary arts is about _art_ rather than practicality. For a moment he considers just writing _‘Eat Me.’_ but he knows Shige would whine about his lack of creativity when he put so much effort into his. So instead he draws basic cartoonish teary eyes and a screaming mouth on the egg, with a speech box on the plate itself saying _‘It hurts!’_. For a moment he considers putting a bit of ketchup underneath to simulate blood, but he figures that would be too much ketchup, and the face alone is off-putting enough. Shige definitely can’t complain it’s uncreative.

It’s not his best work of calligraphy since it’s a bit hard to write and draw with a condiment, but as he said to himself earlier, it’s getting eaten not judged. He takes the plate over to the table and he sees Shige has already put his food at Tetsuya’s place at the table, and is now eagerly awaiting to see what he’s getting in turn. Though as soon as Tetsuya places the omurice before him, his smile falls flat.

“…why are you like this?”

It seems he was wrong, his creation is being eaten _and_ judged.

As he takes a seat he notes that Shige put Hello Kitty on his omelette, and he supposes the contrast is a bit stark.

Shige almost looks genuinely distressed. “How am I supposed to eat this?”

“With your cutlery.” Tetsuya says as he leads by example. It seems Shige had no qualms about drowning his food in ketchup for the sake of presentation. At closer examination it looks more like an off-brand Hello Kitty since the ears are too pointed and the head is too ovular, her trademark bow – a glob of ketchup – is what allowed him to confidently identify the image. It’s a really terrible way to distribute the ketchup.

It’s also really nice.

For people who make their fortune in the arts, his parents are quite utilitarian at home. If he tried to do this with them, his mother would tell him to stop playing with his food and his father just wouldn’t want to participate. Halmeoni would’ve liked it.

While he was musing it seems Shige has gotten over his reservations and has begun to sate his hunger. “Believe it or not, that’s one of my better pieces. Ya-chan always asks for some character, and it can look like a giant blob and she’ll love it. She’s good to me like that.”

As Shige regales stories of siblinghood, although he’s fully paying attention Tetsuya can’t help but continue to ponder. ‘ _It would be nice to have a sibling_ ,’ he thinks. A sibling to come home with, because while he does have a plethora of pseudo-sibling, they all have places to be and real family to prioritize. Not that it should be any other way, because family is important, but…but…and he feels selfish for even thinking it but…without Halmeoni, he’s pretty sure he’s no one’s first priority. He has three cousins from his mother’s side, but he’s only met them twice and they would never share the kind of kinship Shige has with his sister. If he had a sibling, he knows things would be much easier to handle because it would mean no empty house, and someone who understands what it’s like living here. And as much as he loves Shige, and Seirin, and his old teammates, there will always be a divide. Without Halmeoni, he is alone on this side of the chasm.

Not to imply there’s anything wrong with his home life.

It just gets a little lonely.

“Y’know, we actually did a pretty good job.” Says Shige as he nods to himself in appreciation, and Tetsuya hums in agreement. But while the food is good, the company is better.

Nigou sits quietly underneath the table.

 

* * *

 

Today is another day of school. Yesterday he and Shige spent the afternoon playing video games, and caught up on innocuous things like recent happenings. Despite the shaky start to the sleepover and the minor continuation at morning, the rest of the day was fairly enjoyable. Shige had even promised to visit every weekend if he could, and it went without saying that he’s going to text almost as frequently as Kise in between. He had only known where Shige’s old middle school was, but apparently he only lives about a forty minute train ride away, contrary to his mother’s estimate. It seems that despite living in the same prefecture, Kise and Shige don’t live close enough to attend the same school. He would’ve heard from either of them about it if they regularly came into contact, so their paths must not have crossed yet. Even if Shige can’t attend Seirin with him, it would have been neat if he went to Kaijo. Or disastrous. Probably disastrous because he knows how well Shige can hold a grudge, and prolonged exposure to any of his old teammates definitely would have set him off.  

Just two more classes until practice. Or just one to be more precise, since math class is over. It was a fairly basic lesson today as well, continuing the brief and simple introduction to the new unit. The very same test they took on Thursday – which feels like ages ago – is about to be handed back by the teacher before the period comes to an official end.

He knows he didn’t do well.

He had not been in the right mindset for equations, especially after that phone call, but it’s not like he can ask for a re-test when they’re already getting their marks back. The teacher is walking through the aisles, handing back the tests to the according desk. People are already whispering, crowing in delight or groaning in disappointment as they harvest the fruit of their labour. Kagami receives his test, and – excitement.

In his enthusiasm he almost knocks over his chair and does bump Tetsuya’s desk as he spins around to slaps his test between them. Sixty-six percent is circled on the top right corner of the paper, in bold black permanent marker. “ _Sixty-six percent_.” He hisses in a stage whisper. It’s a good thing they have practice today because Kagami is just vibrating with energy, almost ready to combust in his seat with a wide grin on his face. “You’re the _best_ Kuroko! I would’ve bombed it if you didn’t help me out. Sixty-six, holy shit. Ahomine’s not going to believe it!”

He finds it interesting how that implies they talk frequent enough for something as inane as a math test to come up, but he doesn’t inquire about it when the teacher stops by his desk, pausing just long enough to drop off his test before he goes to deliver the rest. It lays facedown just as all the others were given. He’s hesitant to flip it over, especially with Kagami watching with such anticipation, but he feels less comfortable with asking Kagami to go back to his own desk. It’s not going to be good.

“Come on Kuroko, if I got a sixty-six you’re solid.” He assures.

He’ll consider himself lucky if he scored in the high fifties, but it’s not like his mark is rising while he stalls. He flips over the pages to the front, and –

**47%**

**Please return this signed**

…

He failed.

Rather spectacularly now that he looks it over again. He can’t make heads or tails of his thought process, and he’s not sure how he came to a few of these answers now that he’s trying to run through them again. He didn’t realize he had done _this_ badly. Expectation and reality are two very different things. It’s becoming a little hard to breathe, it’s like the sense of defeat is literally suffocating him.

Kagami looks absolutely baffled. “What? How the- This is yours right?” He thinks it’s fairly obvious when his name is printed at the top, but Kagami’s being rhetorical so he doesn’t bother answering. “I don’t understand, you taught me all this junk.” Although this statement isn’t necessarily a question, it does give the impression that he wants an explanation this time.

So he shrugs. “I was unable to focus.”

His partner frowns. “Right.” But then brightens up again with an idea. “Why don’t you ask for a re-test? I’m sure if you explain he’ll understand.”

Tetsuya shakes his head, closes his eyes and rests his chin upon his hand. “It’s fine Kagami-kun, I don’t want to take any more tests. Besides, it’s only one bad mark. My average won’t take a big loss.”

He’s trying to believe that. He trying to tell himself it’s not the end of the world. That he knows what he’s doing and he’ll score higher on the next one, that it’s just the first year of high school and his life isn’t over. He’s not going to die, his future isn’t in jeopardy from one failed test.

But he can’t stop thinking about it.

Forty-seven percent.

That has to be his lowest test score. Ever. He shouldn’t have skipped class just like his mother said. He could hardly afford to rest on his laurels, even in the academic world. Even Halmeoni would’ve been disappointed that he started letting his grades slip like this.

It’s just one test.

It’s just one test, and it’s not the end of the world. He just has to focus and make sure it doesn’t happen again. He opens his eyes and sees the art teacher is already settled in at the front, and at some point Kagami had returned to his desk to start pulling out his supplies. Tetsuya tucks away the accusing sheet and begins to do the same.

It seems that Kagami also understands that there will be no tutoring today either. He still shoves their desks together but he shuts out the world with earbuds and practices writing with the outlines the teacher had handed out last week.

**Please return this signed**

That’s probably the most terrifying part of it. This isn’t his private failure, he has to go home and show this to one of his parents, likely his mother. She’ll get home late and will probably be in an irate mood before he even shows it to her, and she’ll lecture him without reservation when she sees it. It won’t go away even if he starts to bring home straight-As, it’ll always be dangled over him. He’s not ready to give her that kind of power. Not for the first time and definitely not for the last, he’s infinitely grateful to have basketball practice afterschool. He needs a distraction from his impending doom. He can already hear her in his ear, threatening to ban him from distractions like basketball if his next test isn’t better.

Not even art can derail his anxious thoughts. The bold black against white makes him think _‘ **Please return this signed**.’_

 

 

* * *

 

As soon as he and Kagami enter the locker room they’re accosted by their fellow first-years. They don’t stop changing, but whatever their senpai were talking about gets drowned out by their sudden chatter.

“How did you guys do?” Bursts Fukuda. “I got an eighty-seven.” He boasts with a grin.

 Furihata shrinks into himself a bit. “Just a seventy-three.” He says sheepishly.

They all glance back at the door in momentary distraction as Tsuchida walks in. Everyone spares a moment to greet him before they continue, and Kawahara just shrugs. “Seventy-seven.”

“What about you guys?” Asks Fukuda.

Kagami first glances at him, as if it’s his decision. “I got a sixty-six.” He says it with pride but it seems like he’s curbing his enthusiasm for his shadow’s sake. Which makes Tetsuya feel worse because Kagami would’ve been shouting that mark from the rooftops if he didn’t have the guilt of out-scoring his tutor.

Everyone in the locker room freezes, even Hyuga who appeared to be in the middle of throttling Izuki for a pun.

Kawahara speaks in the quiet. “…on the math test?…without the lucky pencil?”

The red-head grins. “Yep.”

There is another pause, but it barely has time to establish itself before it’s filled with hoots and hollers of congratulations. Kagami – and he as well in consequence of being next to him – is quickly mobbed by the team. Koganei is ruffling his hair vigorously while their captain pounds his back with enough force to make a loud noise. It’s almost a mosh pit with everyone crowding tightly together to poke and prod at one person. If one couldn’t see their smiles it would be easy to believe they were trying to beat him up.

No one else pays any mind at first, but Tetsuya turns towards the door when he hears it swing open. Kiyoshi ambles in with coach right behind him, watching their half-naked spectacle with no shame. “Eh, what’s this? A party?” he asks curiously.

“Kagami got a sixty-six on his math test!” Koganei yells, and gives the man of honour a quick noogie while he’s still trapped in Hyuga’s headlock.

 _“Bakagami?”_ Riko repeats in disbelief as she draws closer. No one, not even Furihata bothers to attempt shielding their body from her sight. Tsuchida is only in his boxers and he doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable with Riko just barging in. He supposes having a coach like her for almost two years makes it hard to continue feeling body shy when she demanded their shirts on just day one. They’re fully capable of recognising that she’s a female, yet at the same time it’s like she’s one of the guys, even when she wore a swimsuit.

“Y’know, if he keeps it up we won’t be able to call him that anymore.” Notes Izuki.

To that, Hyuuga snorts. “It doesn’t matter if he’s getting nineties, Bakagami is Bakagami.”

Tetsuya can’t help but agree. “He’ll always be a basketball idiot at the very least.”

“Oi!” Kagami can’t even bring himself to sound offended at their jibes. He’s radiating joy and embarrassment as everyone showers praise on him. “I had a lot of help too, Kuroko crammed about half of that test into my head the day before. And then did it again with Kawahara and Furihata during lunch.”

His statement causes the praise to be distributed among all of the first years for their hard work, and at first it feels nice. This is why he loves his teammates. At home or at Teiko, a sixty-six is not something to celebrate; it just means not good enough. It’s no A+ here either and Kagami is still struggling with a few other subjects, but everyone is celebrating his growth and achievements. Then Tetsuya starts to feel awful because he didn’t achieve anything. Unlike everyone else, he failed the test. He doesn’t deserve their congratulations or proud smiles.

Riko claps twice for their attention, bringing their rowdy clamour to a few stray chuckles. “Okay, let’s bring it in. Get dressed and get on the court.” She orders.

After chorusing a _‘Yes coach!’_ everyone hurries to finish dressing. Tetsuya throws on his shirt and swiftly laces his shoes, finishing up as Kagami stands to leave. They’re running laps again for warmup, but today he feels no need to strain his body, and hangs back with Furihata per usual. At first they jog in companionable silence, but then Furihata speaks. “Hey Kuroko?”

He grunts in acknowledgement, more focused on keeping his rhythm.

“What was your mark?”

Tetsuya spares a moment to congratulate himself on not stumbling. This bunch isn’t exactly renowned for their power of observation, but there are a select few that are particularly keen on details and are able to focus on the correct pieces. Furihata is unfortunately – or at least in this scenario - one of them. He was hoping that everyone had forgotten about him. Whenever he needs his misdirection most, it always seems to fail. Typical.

Despite his reservations he answers. “Forty-seven.” No big deal.

Furihata winces on his behalf. “That’s…it could’ve been worse? I mean, Kagami’s gotten twelve percent before, right? And, uh,” He looks to the ground abashedly, now speaking in a lower voice. “I actually got a forty-one on a physics test just last week.” He admits sheepishly.

That…actually makes him feel better. It’s not that he’s glad Furihata flunked a test, but the fact that he isn’t the only one who messed up is comforting. 

Furihata then continues, “I’m sure you’ll get the next one.” He flashes Tetsuya a small, but encouraging smile.

“Thank you Furihata-kun. I’ll do my best.”

But is that going to be enough.

They don’t try to carry the conversation any further and put their focus back into running before Riko decides they’re too talkative. If she caught anyone chatting for too long she likes to assign extra reps, claiming they had more than enough breath to spare. Running laps is far from his favourite activity, it can even be dangerous if he’s as reckless as he was on Wednesday, but he can appreciate it as well. It’s a rather meditative and refreshing activity. It allows his mind to drift while burning off anxious energy and when his thoughts stray too far, he can easily focus on the physical sensations to ground himself.

New Year’s Eve is tomorrow. It usually comes around February, but it’s odd that it falls on Valentine’s Day this year. It’s going to be very different this year.

He can feel his throat clenching, and this is the last thing he needs while he’s jogging so he tries to stop thinking about it. They walk two more cool down laps before they settle in a circle to stretch out their muscles. He’s straining to just reach his ankles in an attempt to touch his toes as Riko explains today’s task. “First, we’re going to dust off some basics. While Kuroko-kun is amazing, you can’t let your own passing skills atrophy. We’ll be practicing turnovers today, because what good is a nice rebound if the net is already swarmed with defenders by the time we get there.”

He almost blushes at the compliment. Though he does suppose being able to lob the ball to the other end of the court does limit the need to pass the ball or sprint to accomplish the same thing. Once they’re finished stretching, Riko has them spread out in a formation. Since this is a less strenuous activity she allows Kiyoshi to participate and has him standing under the net, ball in hand as the one who caught the theoretical rebound. With the exception of Tetsuya switching out with Koganei, rest of the regulars are acting as a team while he and the benched members are playing the opponents. The numbers aren’t exactly even, but they aren’t putting on a real game so it’s not a problem.

Before the ball is even put into play he feels a creeping sense of dread. Like something is about to go wrong but he knows everything is fine, they’re just having a casual training session. This isn’t even quite a practice match but he almost feels as anxious as he did his first official game. He needs to nip this at the bud and push down the fluttering in his gut. He’s worked through worse jitters before, so does his best to ignore it in favour of tracking the ball when Kiyoshi starts the game by sending it to Kagami. Although Tsuchida and Mitobe were placed behind him, Kagami manages to just slip between them with a well-timed crossover, and he barrels down to the other end of the court to finish with a neat layup in Furihata’s face. While it was a nice play, Kagami completely missed the point of the exercise.

Riko agrees. She blows her whistle and marches over to hit Kagami upside the head with her paper fan. “Bakagami! You’re supposed to pass the ball!”

“Ow!” He faces her with a scowl and rubs the now tender part of his scalp. “I still got the ball there!”

“It’s a fail when you’re supposed to work on passing! Try again.” She barks before blowing her whistle. At her command everyone generally falls back to the positions she originally placed them in, and Kagami returns the ball to Kiyoshi with a chest pass, which is easily caught with a cheery thanks.

Tetsuya can still feel that sense of _wrong_ lurking in his chest, his heart a bird caged in the hands of a child. He wipes his moist palms on his shorts and tugs at his wristbands.

Kiyoshi puts the ball back into play and tosses to Kagami once again as a re-do. Back in possession of the ball, this time Kagami immediately bounce passes to Hyuga. Who is right across from Tetsuya. It’s hardly an effort to snatch the ball before it reaches its intended recipient, and he can’t help but feel a little smug at the groan Kagami lets out from his actions.

“Pay attention to who’s guarding your teammates!” Chastises Riko from the sidelines.

He wastes no time sending the ball to Kawahara, who poises to take a shot but wisely back passes to Mitobe when Kiyoshi looms over him. Mitobe takes a short hop to make a hook shot, and it sinks into the basket with a swish.

“That’s how it’s done! Good call Kawahara!” Riko cheers, and Mitobe ruffles said kohai’s hair.

“Having Kuroko is cheating.” Insists Kagami, throwing a playful glare in his direction.

“Not passing the ball is real cheating.” Corrects Fukuda with a grin.

“Hey, I got the basket, no one said I couldn’t just score if it was open.” He argues back.

Izuki lights up and Tetsuya knows a pun is coming. “It’s a fair point.”

He can’t help but cringe with the rest of the team at the lame joke, though by now he just finds it impressive that Izuki can produce such a variety of puns every day. “Go die!” Shouts Hyuga, but he doesn’t linger on the issue any further and signals for Kiyoshi to start again.

He collects the ball from spot it rolled off to and dribbles back into place. “Let’s have fun.” He sing-songs as he takes a ready stance. He has a serious look in his eyes this time. Not that he wasn’t putting in the effort earlier, but now it’s clear that he has the intent to win the next round.

He feigns a third pass to Kagami before quickly shooting it off to Izuki, who looks surprised to find the ball in his hands, but not taken off guard and is able to use everyone’s hesitation to his advantage. He manages to evade Kawahara’s defense and passes to Hyuga, who has run down to the half court line while Kagami and Koganei sprint ahead to the net. Everyone gives chase to defend or assist so Hyuga quickly tosses the ball to Koganei before the net can get swarmed. As the one placed closest to that net, Furihata is the lone defender already there, but he has no chance of blocking either of them alone. Koganei is barely over the three-point line when he catches it, but since he’s known as the ‘Jack of All Trades’ Tetsuya isn’t entirely confident he’ll miss the shot despite the distance. He sends the ball flying in a smooth arch just before Kawahara has the chance to try stealing, but while the power is enough to close the gap his aim isn’t true.

Though it doesn’t have to be when Kagami is there for the rebound, and he jams it through the hoop with an impressive dunk. Furihata, who fought the good fight, gets knocked over in his effort to stop him. Tetsuya’s heart gives a painful jolt the instant Furihata hits the ground with a solid thump, a rather dramatic reaction when he simple landed on his backside. He’s even laughing as the ball bounces next to him, and shows no hard feelings as Kagami clasps his hand and yanks him back to his feet.

“Alley-oop!” Koganei bellows with a fist-pump. He and Kagami high-five as everyone congregates by the net for the ball check. Koganei doesn’t even need to glance. “Nice one, said Mitobe!” He translates, and it appears to be correct since Mitobe gives a thumbs up.

“Good hustle, that’s what I want!” Encourages Riko. “Kuroko, under the net. Everyone else, as you are.” She instructs.

Ugh.

It’s extremely rare for him to catch the rebound when it’s usually of battle of height, but he supposes being the one to check the ball is one way to sideline him. He really should have expected this when the goal of the exercise is to force everyone else to use spatial awareness, but he still doesn’t like the sensation of everyone’s eyes on him. Unknowingly making him fairly uncomfortable, like small clumsy hands closing around him tighter. Everyone takes a good moment to memorize the new positions, and at Riko’s nod he bounces the ball in preparation.

It’s cold and bumpy surface is almost abrasive against his warm palms.

Once.

Twice.

The path to Fukuda is short and unobstructed so he launches the ball towards him. It’s caught with a sound smack and aside from a grimace, Fukuda has no trouble passing the ball to Furihata, who starts running down the court only to be blocked by Kiyoshi. “Not so fast.” He chimes teasingly. Furihata squeaks when the ball is almost knocked out of his possession by Hyuga, and hurries to give the ball back to Tetsuya before he’s completely surrounded.

He intends to pass the ball to Fukuda, who can either get around Kagami - who’s lurking not too far behind him - or pass to Mitobe. But between Furihata’s shaky pass and his sweaty skin, as soon as the ball meets his hand he knows it’s going off course.

He can’t stop the ball.

One of the downsides to not gripping the ball, is that he can _only_ redirect rather than stop. He has fast reflexes, but he can’t snatch the ball out of the air when he’s already hit it. It flies over Fukuda’s shoulder, going fast enough to generate a breeze to rustle his hair, and it hits Kagami square in the face with a violent thud. He cries out in both surprise and pain, bending over and clutching his nose with his eyes shut in agony.

All of the air is vacuumed from the gym.

“Kagami-kun!” Someone yells in concern.

He’s left frozen where he stands as everyone flocks around their injured teammate. Kagami hidden from view as they encircle him and Riko comes running onto the court with a First-Aid kit.

It’s an accident.

It’s his fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, but I had to leave a cliff-hanger. If I had to pick a point aside from the beginning, this is about where things start to just get harder for Kuroko (◕◡◕✿) #PrayForTetsu2k17
> 
> My sincerest thank you to everyone for your patience. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without any of you. Thank you for all the comments and Kudos. I’m grateful to even the silent readers - yes, I see you in the back - thank you for stopping by.
> 
> Take care of yourselves, I’ll work to get next update as scheduled! (Happy (now belated!) Canada Day to my fellow Canadians!)


	8. Alice in Wonderland Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _“Most often, a perception of becoming physically smaller or physically larger in comparison to surroundings is the central detail. However, there may be an impression that a person's surroundings are growing or shrinking rather than the person himself. Other narratives include distortions in visual awareness, including the sense that fixed surroundings are moving.”_  
>  ([neurologytimes.com](http://www.neurologytimes.com/headache-and-migraine/alice-wonderland-syndrome))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Rolls in with an update as if I didn’t vanish for several months*
> 
> Happy Monday! I hope school is going well for everyone and to those out of school, hope everything is cool too. Lol remember this fic?? Sorry about that, I’ll try to be consistent again. Idk how many of you actually saw the chapter prior because AO3 with kinda messed up and it didn’t even appear on the front page when I posted it. Just in case I’d recommend popping back a chapter to double check or refresh your memory since it’s been some time. I didn’t realize how reliant I was on all of your encouragement until everything went so quiet…not that your obligated to comment now either ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ anyways, we’re getting into the thick of it now. 
> 
> Warning: Panic attack

It's hard to breathe.

The air feels dense and his lungs are shrinking. Like he's caught in the wraps of a boa and his chest is being constricted.

_What has he done._

They've stopped crowding around Kagami, backing up to give Riko some space, but they're still standing around them. They look worried; brows furrowed, hands on hips, and restlessly shifting about. He can't quite understand what they're saying, just sees their lips moving, and practically feels the vibrations in the air as they speak. Like a radio between frequencies, he's tuning in and out, picking up stray words between static, and the most prominent one is _Bleeding._

Kagami is bleeding.

As if to further drive home the severity of this truth, he gets a clear view of his partner as they guide him to a bench. Blood. Bright red droplets streak his unfortunately white t-shirt, dripping from his nose and soaking into an equally white towel. It's staining his fingers – one hand pinching the bridge of his nose, the other holding the cloth - both painted with smears and rivulets of blood as he keeps his head down to let gravity do its work.

His throat is spasming, clenching so tight it feels like he's being strangled.

He can't breathe. He needs to leave. He needs to apologize. He needs to do _something_ but his legs are locked and his thoughts are as fleeting as air, thin and insubstantial.

He can't breathe.

He swallows once, twice, as his eyes dart around the room searching for an exit he won't take. The locker room. The doors leading outside. All unreachable and taunting, appearing even further despite the walls inching closer in a sick funhouse effect. He can't breathe. They have Kagami seated and they're still standing by him concern, but they look less panicked. They're talking and Kagami is waving an arm about, probably communicating something in return.

He wants to go home. He wants to do something, _anything_ and tries to- he's not sure, but he stumbles, trips and impacts the flooding with a resounding _bam_ , landing on his hands and knees. It's jarring, making him sputter out quick, tiny coughs before returning to frantic gasps. He feels a tingling pressure on the parts that took the brunt of his landing, but he can't feel any pain. He feels the floor pounding beneath his palms, a personal earthquake to compliment his shaking vision. Footsteps, he realises, when he sees sneakers appear by his hand. He kind of wishes they stepped on his fingers and ground down on them. He kind of wants to bash his head against the floor to silence the unholy ringing that's muted everything else. Anything to distract him from the sheer terror that's consuming him.

He's- asthma attack?

He's having a- having a panic attack? Asthma?

It's been years since he's had a panic attack, and never this severe.

A hand touches his and his fingers curl away in recoil. His whole arm twitched but his hands remain where they are, lest they collapse and he fall onto his face like a broken table. He draws his eyes up, vision slightly impeded by the fringe of his hair but it's clearly (probably) Furihata crouching in front of him. His head feels as heavy as a bowling ball, and it's a strain on his neck but he lifts his head to look around. His teammates - all of them, even Kagami – are staring at him. They look scared, more fearful than when Kagami was first injured, yet thankfully everyone but Furihata is keeping their distance.

He can feel their eyes on him, crawling over his skin hot and focused like lasers.

Don't look.

Stop watching.

' _Stop looking at me!'_

Shame is making him burn hotter and he feels like an overworked engine, ready to combust at any moment. He's ready to melt, to fly apart piece by piece as he starts shaking. He wants to start clawing at his neck, start scratching at the fingers wrapped around his throat but now they've reached down his esophagus. He can feel them taking an iron grip around his lungs and he can't hear a thing over the tone blaring in his skull, but he can feel the wheezes rattling his chest.

...Now he _knows_ he's having an asthma attack.

_He's having an asthma attack!_

He can't play such a rough sport with an inhaler in his pocket, so he keeps it in his gym bag. All the way in the locker room.

He's going to die here.

His legs fold under him and he's fittingly left almost in dogeza position, because he's so sorry he's ruining everything and he can't control himself. He's going to die here. He's going to die. He's going to suffocate on the gym floor in front of his friends, he's going to die because he can't _breathe_!

Someone is touching his face, their skin freezing against his as they tilt his head upward. It's Mitobe. He looks underwater, distorted, so he has no clue as to what kind of expression he's making, but he'd always recognise that blue piece of plastic he's holding up. His _inhaler._ He wants to start crying in relief but he's pretty sure he's already drooling and sweating, and that's more than enough body fluids leaking out. He leans back on his legs entirely and sits up a bit more to take his weight off of his arms. He reaches out to take the device but the actual movement lags behind his command, and if feels as if he's swimming but he manages to grab it. He gets it to his lips but his fingers are trembling far too much to actually administer it. He almost keens in relief when Mitobe takes the inhaler from his weakened grasp and holds it in place for him. His senpai then puts his other hand on his back, and rubs soothing circles as he as he pushes down the canister. But the aerosol is not very effective when he starts coughing.

He feels someone taking his hand again, but this time he doesn't fight them. He doesn't know who's holding him – his eyes just slipped closed, face tingling – but they place his palms against their chest. The inhaler is put back in his mouth but he's more focused on the chest his fingers are splayed against.

The rhythm of their breaths, deep and long. Expand. Hold. Contract. As he feels the ghost of an exhale skim across his wrist in strategic intervals, he realizes it's a breathing technique. Four seconds in. Pause. Four seconds out. He knows this. It feels impossible to breathe that steadily, but he needs his inhaler. It's incredibly hard, but he does manage to slow his rasping gasps, still much faster than his helper, but better. Mitobe tries again, and this time he manages to take in a lung full.

It's probably psychological – he knows it doesn't work that fast – but he can immediately feel his chest opening up again. The next dose comes easier, and he finally starts to calm down. After a third and final puff, while he's holding his breath he kindly guides Mitobe's hand and the inhaler out of his face. Just three seems like it should be enough. His hand is released, and Mitobe stops rubbing his back.

He exhales slowly and lowers himself on his side, arranging him limbs into something approximating the recovery position. He takes a moment to catch his breath, enjoying the soothing blackness behind his eyelids and the cold floor beneath him.

He should probably get up, but he's just too exhausted and sore after that ordeal. And now that's he's done panicking, it's becoming abundantly clear that he's blown the situation way out of proportion.

"Kuroko-kun?" It's Riko's voice. He can hear the scuff of her shoes as she comes closer, the sound of her knees hitting the ground as she crouches by his head.

He peels an eye open to acknowledge her.

She looks pale and frazzled. "Do you know what happened?"

"Asthma." He manages to wheeze.

"Do you know what caused it?" She inquires. He notes that she's still holding her clipboard and guessing by the pencil ready in hand, she plans on jotting down this information for future reference.

While he gathers more breath, he thinks about lying to her. It's a bit humiliating to just say _'I panicked,'_ and shrug like it happens all the time. He could easily say it was from all of the activity, because it does happen occasionally, but he doesn't like lying when it's not necessary. Instead, he just says, "Stress."

It's a bit vague, but still honest. An omission at worst. She doesn't write anything down at the moment, but he's certain she's going to analyze this at length later. For his sake, to make sure it doesn't recur, but he still hates the idea of anyone tip-toeing around as to not set him off again.

She hums noncommittally. "You weren't responding to us, so we got pretty worried. Could you hear us?" Tetsuya grunts a negative response, since he's unable to shake his head while on his side.

She looks dissatisfied with his answer. "I'm not sure how alert you were, so I'll just go over what happened. Furihata-kun was the first to notice you on the ground. As soon as we figured out you were having an asthma attack, I got your rescue inhaler." Front side pocket, just as he had told her in case of such an emergency. He's glad she was able to remember. "Mitobe said that he has a brother with asthma, and helped you with the inhaler. Furihata-kun said he knew some breathing techniques and tried to help too. It worked, and now we're here." She finished.

Ah. He owes everyone an apology for such a serious scare. Especially right after- He almost forgot.

"Kagami…kun?" He musters the energy to sit up and look for him, but Riko eases him back to the floor. Furihata and Mitobe are still sitting with them, and from here he can see the rest of the team watching from the other end of the gym where Riko likely banished them. Kagami is standing with them, rag still pressed to his face, but he hardly looks aware of his injury as he watches with everyone else.

"He's fine, just a bad nosebleed. He'll have a nasty bruise for a while, but nothing's broken. He's not going to die any time soon." She says dismissively before refocusing on him. "You're the number one concern right now. Is there anything else you need? Can you make it to the nurse's office? He should still be here."

"No thank you." Aside from watching him rest in the office or calling one of his parents, the nurse can't do anything that can't be done here. Which is essentially nothing.

Riko doesn't look pleased with his decision. "I would feel more comfortable if you saw a medical professional."

"He'll just tell me to rest and call him if I feel another attack coming on. Then I'll just take my inhaler again, and do the same thing until I go home." Well, he'll also perform an examination or two, but he feels well enough to believe a trip is unwarranted.

She still seems skeptical, but she relents despite her reservations. "Okay…is there anything you need right now?"

Tetsuya closes his eyes to consider his answer. All of that gasping left his mouth quite dry.

"Water please."

Mitobe stands and walks off court to fulfil his request, however his attention is brought back to Riko when she hums in consideration. "Did we do everything right? Mitobe pretty much took the lead, but I want to know if anything wasn't helpful." The pencil is poised in her hand, ready to write.

Oh. This must be what she wants to take notes on. That's incredibly considerate.

He can't think of any glaring mistakes. They didn't crowd him, got his inhaler in a timely fashion, and helped him regulate his breathing. If anyone said anything unfortunate he didn't hear it, so he has no complaints there either. But Riko won't be happy unless he gives some kind of critique. "No, everything was very helpful. This was a rather unfortunate exception, but usually I am able to get my inhaler on my own, and do not require extra assistance. My apologies for disturbing practice."

At this point Mitobe returns, and with two more items than requested. He pulls himself into a sitting position unimpeded this time, and gratefully accepts both the towel and water bottle handed to him. As he unscrews the cap and takes a deep drink - relishing the soothing cold of water down his irritated throat – a sweater is gently placed around Tetsuya's shoulders. It's far too large on him to be his own, so Mitobe must be lending it to him. It doesn't take him long to appreciate the article as it starts to retain his body heat, when he hadn't even noticed his cooling sweat had started to chill him. "Thank you Mitobe-senpai." He murmurs after lowering his drink, to which Mitobe answers with a kind smile and a nod. He wipes his face dry with the towel also provided, the terry cloth texture rough to the touch from many washes, but functional none-the-less.

Riko sighs. Or rather, she deflates in defeat. "I would rather you _'cause a disturbance,'_ than suffocate on the gym floor Kuroko-kun. Besides, with two injuries I think we should cut practice short while we're still somewhat ahead." She grumbles.

The news leaves him with a hollow sense of disappointment. However he's not sure if he's disappointed by her decision, or with himself. Nothing is going right today and he has no one to blame _but_ himself, so he supposes that's his answer.

Riko continues to speak. "Are you okay to make it home, or do you need to be picked up?"

Oh god. The absolute last thing he wants to do is call his mother and explain what happened. He could call his father but no doubt he'll relay everything to her… "I will be fine to walk in a few minutes, I'm alright now." His chest has a lingering pain and he can feel a headache threatening to stab at his brain, but he should make it home in one piece if he's careful.

"Alright, but Kagami-kun's coming with you." The stubborn set of her jaw and the firm look in her eyes says that this isn't a request for him or Kagami.

"But he's injured." He argues regardless.

"His nose is pretty much done bleeding, and he said he feels fine aside from the bruising. Besides, I think he's going to follow you anyways." She's right. He knows she's right. Kagami would rather walk him home and make sure he's alright himself than wonder if he made it there without incident. He would probably carry him on his back all the way to his house if he asked, even if it were accompanied with grumbles and complaints. If he weren't so open about his affection at times, he would be a bigger tsundere than Midorima.

There's no helping it.

"Okay."

She nods her approval. "Good. Now let's hit the showers."

"I'll be there in a minute." Says Tetsuya before he takes another sip of water. His legs feel too weak and jittery right now, maybe in a few moments he'll be able to stumble to his feet.

"Alright. Let's go you two." She says as she stands to leave.

Surprisingly, Furihata protests as well. "Um, actually, I, uh. If it's okay with Kuroko-kun, I'd like to wait with him?" He inflection turns it into a nervous question rather than a request, but Tetsuya doesn't see why not. When Riko turns to him for an answer, he shrugs his permission and she returns the gesture in kind.

"Alright, Mitobe-kun?" It appears that he feels no need to linger himself when he shakes his head and rises next to her. But before he leaves he returns the inhaler to its owner, who holds onto it with a tight grip. "Take your time Kuroko-kun." After that, she and Mitobe return to the other side of the gym. From here Tetsuya can hear her – and Koganei occasionally chiming in as Mitobe's proxy – filling in the rest of the team. They still glance at him with concern in intervals but they look much less frightened now that they're better informed, and file back into the locker room to get cleaned up.

All is silent as the three of them watch the rest of the team shuffle away.

Riko turns to them. "I'll be packing up, so I'll be in and out of the storage room. Yell if you need me." She says as she scoops up the ball and grabs a stack of pylons using the other arm.

He considers telling Furihata he's ready to go even though just the thought of the trek home fills him with exhaustion, but clearly his teammate has something to say and he shouldn't make it harder. "Was there something you wanted to talk about Furihata-kun?"

He's startled by the question. "Er, uh. Kinda? I just…" Tetsuya waits as he thinks. "I…think I get it?"

He makes sure to convey his confusion through a blank stare. Get what?

It only serves to make Furihata more flustered. "I-I mean I can sympathize. With your asthma. I know it's not the same thing, and I'm not _actually_ going to die from an anxiety attack, but I've heard they're pretty similar? I don't know." He rambles, eyes darting along the floor, tracing the court lines as if they had a script. "I-I just wanted you to know that it's okay, and nobody's mad at you or anything. Like, you're not a burden or something. A-And um, I just wanted to make sure _you're_ okay because after _I_ have an attack, I kinda just shut down for a while…Though I guess your thing is more physical, so sorry if I'm just, saying stuff…uh," He lets out a quick chuckle that further belies his discomfort. "So, uh…"

He's not sure if Furihata is going to wind down without intervention, so Tetsuya speaks up while his monologue hits a lull. "Thank you for your assistance Furihata-kun, it would have taken me a while longer to breathe correctly if you hadn't been there."

His teammate flushes red at his words. "I-It was nothing! I-I would've asked if it was okay to touch you but you weren't answering, and I kinda zone out sometimes too and I find touch really grounding when I'm panicking, so I just thought it would help." The way he's wringing the bottom of his shirt seems to be a prime example. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

"It's fine. I'd like to apologize for putting you in such a stressful situation." He responds with a slight bow of his head.

"There's no need, it's not your fault. None of it was! I-In fact, I probably gave _you_ a bad pass, which messed everything up…" He mutters, but then shakes his head and continues. "These things happen. Honestly it's amazing this didn't happen sooner with the way you pass- I-I didn't mean there's something _wrong_ with your technique! It just doesn't look like you have a firm grip on the ball, not that that would be _ideal_ when you're passing. Because, you know, you have to get _rid_ of the ball quickly, especially with your misdirection. I-I just meant…that it must be hard to always be so accurate when you high-five the ball- I'm…just. Stopping now. Sorry" Furihata shuts his mouth with an audible _clack_ and though he's silent, his eyes are still screaming his regrets.

High-five the ball? He really shouldn't, but he can't help but laugh at Furihata's clumsy attempt at comfort. It's nothing more than a soft chuckle, but the remnant of a smile on his face is enough to give him away. "Thank you very much Furihata-kun. I'm feeling better already."

He seems to spend another moment reading Tetsuya's face for any signs of a negative emotion before letting a relieved grin overtake his features. "I'm glad."

He shouldn't keep Kagami waiting. It leaves him feeling light-headed, but Tetsuya clamours to his feet in a relatively smooth motion. With Mitobe's jacket still draped over his shoulders he sort of feels like Akashi. It even reminds of the time in middle school when he and his old teammates took turns doing impressions of him. "Let's get changed." Furihata nods in agreement.

* * *

"Feel better Kuroko-kun!" Shouts Kiyoshi as the team parts ways. It prompts everyone else to yell the same thing in variations, their voices overlapping into a slightly garbled noise, each individually heart-warming despite their simultaneous delivery.

Kuroko simply smiles to himself and waves as he starts walking home. Kagami is next to him, remaining quiet. He already took another dose of his inhaler before they left, his scarf is double looped and pulled up under his eyes, but the cold air still doesn't go down easy.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Asks Kagami for the third time. He had inquired about his health as soon as he had entered the change room with the rest of the team, and then again right before they left the gym. "Yes Kagami-kun, I'm certain." Sort of. He doesn't carry around his peak flow meter either, but he feels well enough. "Are you sure your face is alright?"

Kagami still has a towel wrapped cold compress held to his face, a new one that's significantly less bloody, but it worries him that it's still bleeding at all. "I'm fine. Coach said I was lucky it didn't break, it's going to bruise like a bitch though. Argh, Valentine's day…" He grumbles.

Valentine's Day. He ruined Kagami's face for Valentine's Day.

 _Perfect_.

"Hey, come on. I didn't mean anything by that, I just remembered it's tomorrow is all. I'm really okay, I have a hard head, remember?" He adds with a teasing grin.

Still, he can't help but feel a twist of guilt. "None the less, I am very sorry for my carelessness Kagami-kun."

Kagami rolls his eyes. "Geez, I've had worse Kuroko. Relax, everything's cool. 'Sides, I should've caught that." That's a very…Kagami way to think of it.

He could think of many counter-arguments to his opinion, but somehow his stomach unclenches at Kagami's reassurance and he's willing to let it go for now. It's quiet. He allows the tension in his muscles to slacken, and tries to hold on to that feeling of relief before he starts thinking about the other psychological burdens pressing down on him. Like the math test.

"So…that was an asthma attack." drawls Kagami. He pulls away the cloth to check his nose – grimacing as he gets a spot of blood on his wool gloves – then presses the ice pack to his face again.

"Yes. I'm usually able to prevent full attacks but I was caught off guard. It won't happen again." It's not exactly something he can promise, but he'll make sure to step outside before it reaches that point again.

"Huh. It's a good thing we had Furihata and Mitobe-senpai, everyone was kind of freaking out. Coach too, she stopped Kiyoshi-senpai from calling an ambulance."

An ambulance would've been a bit much in this case, but it's nice to know even Kiyoshi had been trying to assist from the side. "They were very helpful." He's particularly impressed with Furihata though. He's familiar with anxiety and it's obvious that Furihata's is much worse. He's stronger than anyone – even Furitata himself – gives him credit for by pushing through that to help him. He really does have amazing teammates. Kagami doesn't press for further conversation after that, and it allows Tetsuya to conserve his energy for the rest of the walk home. It's not really that far or strenuous when compared to the training they undertake every other day, but by the time his house is in slight his legs feel liquid and his eyelids like lead. He's pretty tempted to just ditch his homework and go right to bed, but that would be next to impossible after his parents find out about this test.

They still have about two blocks to go when Tetsuya stops and turns to his companion. "This is far enough. Thank you for accompanying me Kagami-kun. I know it's quite out of your way." He gives a quick bow.

Kagami scratches the nape of his neck and looks away. "It's whatever Kuroko. It'd bother everyone if you walked home alone after that. If I didn't come, I'm sure one of our senpai would've volunteered, or something. I live closest anyways." He shrugs. "See you tomorrow?"

He nods and Kagami flashes him a grin before turning away, J-walking across the empty street and doubling back the way they came. "Take care!" Tetsuya hears him shout with a wave.

He returns the gesture with much less vigour.

Alone.

With every step towards his house he feels that same dread coiling tighter in his gut. With practice finished early only his father should be the only one home at the moment, and that's easy to deal with. She's not home yet, so he has time to prepare. Everything's going to be fine. For a bit. He finds his pace slowing as he draws nearer, and ironically the cold wind is all that keeps him from freezing in place before he crawls to his front door. He pulls the key out of his coat pocket, and just stands there on the porch for a moment.

Home sweet home.

It's a particularly strong gust of cold air burning the exposed parts of his face that incites him to do the deed and unlock the door. It's warm inside and the enticing aroma that promises a hot meal draws him further in, settles his nerves with its familiarity. His father rarely cooks dinner and there was hardly ever a need for him to with Halmeoni around, so it's nice to see he's taken up the task without prompting.

"I'm home!" He calls, and at the sound of his voice Nigou comes sprinting to greet him. With him jumping around so excitedly it's hard for Tetsuya to give him a good scratch, so he settles for a quick back rub in greeting.

"Welcome home Tetsuya!" He hears his father reply. He sheds his coat and boots, then trudges to the kitchen with his bag still in hand. "I'm surprised you're home early." He says as he stirs the pot. All of his hair is tied back out of his face, and he's wearing a light blue apron. The one with a cute cartoon bunny on the bottom, holding out its little fingers in a V-sign.

 _'I'm surprised your home at all,'_ is the snide comment that automatically comes to mind, but if he wants any allies tonight it's best he keeps his mouth shut. "Practice was cut short. What are you making?"

"Oden. Right, how was practice."

Tetsuya sits at the table kitchen table, watches his father taste the soup stock and dash in some seasoning. "It was fine."

A simple hum. "And school? Everything still good?"

"Um, fine, but…" He's not sure how to properly segue _'fine,'_ to _'I failed a test,'_ so he just takes the plunge. "I didn't do very well on a test we had last week. Could you please sign it?" Don't ask questions, don't ask questions-

"Sure thing, just study harder next time."

Tetsuya has never heard sweeter words. "Thank you." He says as he retrieves the test, and quickly hands it to his father face down. His father accepts it, and immediately places it on the empty counter space next to him.

Despite the implications his lingering presence, it seems his father is determined to ignore his silent plea and continues to cook, slowly peeling a daikon radish without a care. Is…he not going to sign it? Tetsuya hovers for a bit longer before realizing his mistake. He fishes out his pencil case and returns with a pen in hand. "Sorry, here."

"Oh, thanks. I'll get it back to you after dinner." His father says absently, more focused on reading the next steps of the recipe.

He keeps his expression passive, but internally he grimaces. She'll be home by then…The thought of waiting that long is making him antsy, but asking him to sign it right now instead would be rude…A silent sigh of defeat, Tetsuya packs his things and retreats to his room. After Nigou slips inside he eases his bedroom door shut, and collapses onto his bed. Deflate seems to be a better descriptor as all of his aches and pains become apparent, and sap the remaining strength out of him. The muscles in his chest hurt and he feels a bit congested, but he considers it a victory when the previously lurking headache fails to develop on top of it all. There is a beat of absolute stillness as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

…

Today has just been garbage.

Between his rather insufficient lunch – which he had hastily thrown together this morning, once he belatedly realized that no one else was going to pack it – and the panic attack which exacerbated his asthma, today is just irredeemable. And it's not even over.

He's tired.

It's very tempting to let his eyes slide shut and allow the weight of his bones to hold him in place, but he can't rest yet. He still has math problems to solve and a chapter to finish reading for Japanese Literature. As a sort of compromise to himself, he chooses to dig out the book and read to pass the time. He tried reading _I Am a Cat_ back in middle school at Midorima's recommendation, but as a fan of dogs and plot progression, it took him longer than usual to finish. Of course he has to read it with far more scrutiny this time as well if he wants to write a good essay, though it still isn't quite a chore with its mildly interesting themes. Unfortunately he read a majority of the assigned pages during lunch in lieu of eating, so in a brisk half-hour he's left with nothing to do but math. It's right as he cracks open the textbook at his desk he hears a knock on his door. It's his father.

"Tetsuya? Dinner is ready. Your mother is home as well." His voice is muffled through the barrier, and Tetsuya listens to his fading footsteps as he likely returns to the kitchen.

This is it.

He reluctantly shuts his book and sets his work aside. Nigou, who has been dozing in a corner perks up as he rises to his feet and stretches. As soon as he steps out into the hall the smell of oden is much thicker in the air, warm and comforting. Howevery the soft clink of china against table, and the shadowy murmur of conversation drifting towards him much more abrasively. The physical sensations of anxiety start to hit him, creeping up like a rising tide as he realizes it's about to start. But this isn't as sudden as hitting Kagami in the face, so he has no problem squishing it down, retreating from the deep end to gether his barings. It's little more than a chore to take a few deep breaths and draw all unruly emotions into his gut, where they sit cold and heavy, but contained. He stops in the doorway, where he's pinned under the intensity of his mother's gaze. The table is already set and his mother is seated, still wearing the suit she wore to work but the jacket is missing, presumably put away, leaving her in a fine white dress shirt that's tucked into black pants. His test is sitting right in front of her, **fourty-seven** shining boldly from even across the room.

Deep breath.

"Welcome home Mother."

"Hello Tetsuya, how was school?" She asks coolly. Her face, still painted with makeup is as smooth as a porcelain mask. There is no correct answer.

"It was fine. How was your day?" He subtly avoids her eyes, pretends to be tracking Nigou as he scampers under the table and sniffs at his mother's bare foot.

"Fine as well, thank you," She answers disinterestedly before pressing on. "Your father handed this to me just a moment ago." She picks up the packet. "Are you having trouble at school?"

He feels a flash of irritation geared towards his father. He couldn't have just signed it. He swallows it back. "No, I just couldn't focus. I kept thinking about the…funeral." The word feels like ash on his tongue.

Nigou trots out from under the table, leaves the kitchen entirely to complete some unknown task.

She frowns, holding the sheet eyelevel as she reads over the questions and his answers. "But it doesn't look like you even tried. You made mistakes on basic division a few times. Can you even walk me through your thought process? Some of these answers don't make any sense." Her frown deepens and she sets the paper down with palpable disappointment.

He feels nauseous as he chokes down shame, and his throat burns with his effort to keep his voice steady. "I did the best I could at the time. If you would like, I can show you the study sheets I've completed."

She shakes her head, and something slackens. "No, I'll believe you. I told you to stay home for a few days. Your teacher would have understood and let you take the test later. You need to know your limits Tetsuya, and not just the physical ones." She chastises.

"Sorry." He apologizes as he sits at the table. His father comes to join them, setting the large pot of oden in the middle, with smaller bowls of kimchi and rice already in place.

"Don't apologize, just try to do better next time." It's an odd contrast. Her voice is so gentle, but her words scrape against something soft. She signs the front page with a flourish using the very same pen he lent his father.

The weight of her words settle uncomfortably heavy on his shoulders.

Be better next time.

Once everyone has their first serving of food and the taste of their previous conversation is washed from his mouth, he ponders how to bring it up. He's not sure how they're going to celebrate New Year's without Halmeoi. This is their first family dinner without her and he's trying not to think about her empty chair, or the way everything goes silent every now and then, like the pause between tracks on an old record.

"How's your brother been?" Asks his father.

She gets that pinched look on her face. "Same as usual, giving me a headache. But I don't want to get into that." She shakes her head before continuing to eat.

His father grunts, then takes a sip of broth.

...

The refridgerator hums and chairs creak.

Quiet.

He thinks about the other night, sitting here with Shige. Surrounded by darkness with nothing but the overhead light and sweetness on his tongue, the past finally hunting him down after its dogged chaase. Tetsuya swallows once, twice, then speaks. "What are we doing tomorrow?" His inquiry is answered with a loaded silence and a shared look between his parents, a wordless conversation being held over him.

His mother is their designated mouthpiece. "I'm not sure. Thanks to your uncle I'm going to be very busy for the next few days, and your father's planning to get some work done at the office. Besides, without Halmeoni…" She trails off.

But if anything, Halmeoni's death should be an incentive. "She would've wanted us to celebrate."

"Tetsuya, even she didn't make a big deal about it. We always just have a nice dinner and talk like any other night. I'm sorry, but your father and I have work to do."

"Surely you hadn't anticipated Halmeoni's death. You must have booked the time off like normal." He argues, but she looks unwilling to budge and his father still refuses to speak.

His mother carefully sets down her chopsticks while his father absently stirs his bowl. "Tetsuya, I'm not saying we should forget about it because she's dead. We don't know all the rites, and we don't know the recipes for the food either. This is a busy part of the year, and we need you to understand that we can't always find the time."

 _'You never have the time.'_ "Father has made jeon before, and we've been celebrating for so many years that we know enough." His father has been suspiciously silent so far.

"Seollal isn't a national holiday in Japan Tetsuya, so I can't just drop everything. Maybe your father can stay home, but I have things to do. Besides, after seeing this test score I really think you need a good night's sleep so you can focus at school. And don't you have basketball practice too? I don't think your coach would be happy if you showed up too tired to play." She counters.

He doesn't even have practice tomorrow, but that's besides the point. He has no response that would sway her opinion in the slightest, and the silent frustration makes him burn. He can't stop his lips from pursing the slightest bit as his bites his tongue.

Finally, his father looks up and meets his gaze intending to engage in the canversation. "To tell you the truth, she didn't start celebrating again until she moved in with us. She just…wanted a piece of home, and taught you what she could to make up for lost time. I understand you have fond memories and you're free to continue certain habits, but personally…I'm rather indifferent. You aren't obligated to uphold her expectations either." Something inside of him stirs in malcontent. Every now and then, he gets the strangest feeling when they lock eyes, the barest hint of a fight-or-flight response from its gravity. It's different kind of intensity from his mother's steel grey, less like a specimen under observation and more like an offspring on the cusp of challenging its sire. As if they walk a fine line between adversaries and allies despite the fact that they've never clashed head-on. The tension of uncertainty is a constant undercurrent between them recently.

"I know." Tetsuya whispers rather gruffly. He isn't exactly surprised by his response. His father generally takes a rather indifferent approach to most things, except perhaps when he's had a few drinks. He can feel a pressure mounting as he tries to keep calm. He wants to get angry, he wants to point out that it's not right that they've silently resolved to erase Halmeoni from their lives now that she's no longer here, but he keeps silent. He lost his appetite during the exchange, but he's aware he needs the physical nourishment after today, so he forces it down regardless. It still tastes savoury and delicious, but it sits in his stomach like a rock.

The atmosphere is thick, cluttered with loud thoughts unsaid, but no one tries to clear the air.

* * *

After dinner, he is allowed to retreat to his room since his father volunteered to take care of the dishes. He feels exhausted all over again. A different kind of weary that makes any kind of effort seem pointless. If he just gets a few questions completed he can leave the rest for lunch and work with Kagami, who will surely appreciate the company and assistance.

Two quick knocks, and his door swings open. He hardly has time to sit up in his chair and look awake when his mother steps just past the doorframe. "Tetsuya." She greets with business-like impersonality, her hands even clasped behind her back.

He nods her greeting in return before she continues. "I want you to understand that I'm not trying to punish you. This is a hard time for the whole family, so we need to work together now more than ever. But the last thing she would've wanted is for us to put everything on pause, and I think she would be disappointed to find out that you've started letting your grades slip."

That feels like a punch in the gut. It leaves him both breathless, and hungry to retaliate. He probably knows _better_ than her just how Halmeoni would've felt about this. She would be disappointed about it, but she would've understood that he _really did try_ , and she would've asked what was wrong and held him until he felt better. She would've disapproved of staying up so late on a school night with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and she would've stayed up to celebrate together. She would've called him in sick if he looked tired enough because she had faith that he was a good student, and would work hard to catch up. She obviously wouldn't have wanted him to shut down, but _she_ would've understood that _he needs time_. It's a tremendous effort to keep his face calm, but he clenches a fist at his side, hidden behind his profile from where she stands. It's almost too great, too hot to push down, but he shrinks his sudden burst of rage. It would've been unwarranted and problematic if he suddenly lost it. She did insist that he take time off, but he wanted to go to school anyways. He knows that she's ultimately correct, and he's somewhat in the wrong here.

He nods.

She stares at for a moment, silently appraising him before she sighs. "It's just one test, so I'll forget it this time." She brings her hands to the front to present his signed papers. He stands to retrieve it, but just as he takes a hold of one corner, her grip tightens. She waits until he looks her in the eyes, the weight of her stare falling on him heavier than a brick of silver. "We know you're a bright kid." Likely, it's supposed to be praise, but the way she whispers makes it sound like a conspiracy, as if it's something he's trying to hide.

 _'We know what you are, and we are coming for you._ '

She releases the paper.

He takes a step back.

"…keep studying, but get some sleep before it's late. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight." And with that she backs out into the hall, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

He's left standing there, feeling weak in the knees and sick to his stomach with stress. Breathing heavily and feeling hot in the face as if he's just completed some herculean task. Numbly, he shuffles back to his desk and collapses into his chair, blankly staring at the pages in front of him. His arm lays limp by his side and the test slips from between his clammy fingers, glidding against the flood with a quiet hiss. But he pays it no mind and he picks up his pencil with the other hand.

He swallows once, twice, and valiantly tries not to stain his homework with tears.

He fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully this story is as good as you remember. If you want to poke at me if I’ve been quiet for too long, or want to see previews or research notes, I started a [side-blog](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/) to post stuff on. My main [Tumblr blog](http://never-gunna-give-memes-up.tumblr.com/) is just memes and various different anime. More details over on the side-blog, feel free to leave suggestions or chat!


	9. Acid Reflux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Acid reflux occurs when stomach acid (and sometimes food and liquid) backs up into your esophagus[…]. Normally, […] a ringlike muscular valve located at the bottom of your esophagus, keeps acid and other substances in your stomach. With acid reflux, the sphincter malfunctions, relaxing when it shouldn’t and allowing acid to reflux (move up) into your esophagus. Because the tender lining of your esophagus doesn’t protect against stomach acid, you suffer heartburn or indigestion." _[Besthealthmag.ca](http://www.besthealthmag.ca/best-you/a-z-index/acid-reflux-gastroesophageal-reflux-disease-heartburn/)__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anything, I want to say a massive thank you for all the support. I usually stick to one-shots so I do currently have one other fic at over 1000 hits, but it’s been up for 2 years or so. At this point I can say I’m very content with how far this story has gone, even if it’s hardly anything when compared to other stories. So just…thanks a lot, and I hope you stay with me to the end of this story.  
> You’ve probably noticed, but I made a new summary! This scene came to mind and I instantly thought, _‘This is it. This is the story.’ _And it seems to have increased interest as well, but I’d love to hear what my older readers think. There’s so much time between updates and so much I want to blather about but I hate really long ANs, so I’ve been trying to post stuff on[Tumblr](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/). If you want to know what’s going on behind the scenes, what else I’m working on or just want to talk you can find me there. You probably won't find this the most interesting chapter, but there has to be transitions and I wanted to tie a few things up.__

There’s five minutes left on the clock.

His muscles are trembling from the exertion, everyone is exhausted but they have to keep giving it their all. Even Murasakibara wasted no time under the net, scoring as many baskets as he can in order to reach their goal.

The ball is in his hands and before a defender can block him, he sends it rocketing into Aomine’s, who pivots around another faceless player to slam down another two points.

Seven minutes left.

One more basket, and it’s all over.

The ball is in Haizaki’s hands. He moves to dribble down the court but he’s quickly intercepted by Akashi. Yet instead of deterred, he manages to ankle break the emperor himself and pushes on. Akashi falls and does not get up.

They cannot help him.

Hanamiya is only at half court when he takes his shot. It sails impossibly high, maybe it even brushes the rafters before it starts to arch downward like a missile. It’s about to fall directly into the net when suddenly, Momoi jumps and swats the ball far from its desired target, her long ponytail whipping around fiercely as she lands and twirls around to face Tetsuya. She passes the ball to him with a look of absolute desperation, the face of someone holding onto a dying man as she throws it. And he feels that same fear the moment it lands in his possession. That burning need to do _something_. That tightness in his chest, that sheer overwhelming misery of helplessness as he holds it. He passes the ball to Akashi, golden eyes gleaming as he receives it flawlessly and sinks the final basket with a hook shot.

The timer buzzes and Tetsuya fills with elation. It’s over, they did it! They’re screaming, cheering as they run towards one another to meet in a group hug. Midorima is crying and he knows the same tears streaming down his face, because everything is finally right. Confetti is swirling down like a thick blizzard, but not enough to obscure the glowing scoreboard.

**11:111**

They lost!

Kise scoops him up in a princess carry, whirling them both around dizzily and making colours bleed together. He’s set down before Kise runs off to grab someone else, but it's while he’s reorienting himself that he notices something. The stadium is packed full of observers, but not a single one is cheering. The entire arena is dead silent with the exception of their now obnoxious cheering. Even the victors are staring at them with such cold eyes and so much wordless contempt that Tetsuya feels a chill run down his spine. The atmosphere is haunting and soon he can’t even hear his teammates. Thousands of eyes are focused on him, and he can feel the sting of jeers and ridicule the people wordlessly sling like rotten fruit.

He sees Shigehiro in the audience before he stands, slowly rising from his seat like a serpent from the sea. Tetsuya is hyper-focused on his every movement. He stands tall, wearing Seirin’s number ten jersey, and holds his left arm out straight at his side. And then it happens.

As if an invisible figure were dragging a knife across his skin, five bloody lines appeared across his forearm, and only when the colon is drilled in between does he realize what he’s seeing.

**111:11**

Then Shigehiro raises his arm until he has a first straight up in the air.

One by one each member of the audience mimics his gesture, slowly putting an arm up, the same weeping wound carved into their flesh in a show of solidarity. The stadium is still dead silent and Shigehiro looks like a lone man standing in a vast field of disembodied limbs. His eyes are empty. Two black holes have made a home behind his eyelids, and the edges of Tetsuya’s vision start to blacken as he stares into the void. He’s being sucked in, his very soul is being pulled out, everything is mute-

_He can hear it all regardless-_

Tetsuya wakes up with a harsh jolt. The sound of clattering pencils and crumping sheets does nothing but agitate him further in his confusion. Fear drenches him more thoroughly than sweat as he tries to gather his bearings.

It’s dark. He’s in his room.  He’s still sitting at his desk.

He must have fallen asleep while working. There’s still a blank sheet of paper sticking to his arm and as he peels it off, he cranes his neck to find his glowing alarm clock.

**2:27AM**

It reads in red digits. It’s still early enough – or late, perhaps – to warrant going back to sleep, and as comfortable as his chair is, he intends to spend the rest of the night in his bed. Rather than just half, he managed to get most of his math homework done. If it’s incorrect he can fix it with Kagami or check in with the other first-years, so he doesn’t feel concerned about the accuracy of his calculations. He both hears and feels his spinal discs popping as he curves over the back of the chair in a languid stretch, and the muscles in his chest now ache from yesterday. The floor is cool but his feet are colder, sweeping along the ground with a whispery hiss until he kicks his fallen pencil, which rolls noisily. He freezes, heart racing all over again as he listens for any sounds in response.

The house remains asleep.

He exhales in relief. Creeping along with much more caution he makes it to bed without further incident, and falls back asleep only moments after he rests his head on his pillow.

* * *

 

 This time, he wakes up to the sound of his alarm.

He doesn’t feel well rested but it’s nothing new at this point, and he acquired at least eight hours of sleep so the feeling should fade. Today is another day of going through the motions. Tetsuya reluctantly climbs out of bed, piles together his scattered notes and writing utensils, then proceeds to prepare for his day like usual. He brushes his teeth, then his hair and puts on his uniform before heading into the kitchen.

He won’t have time to actually eat if he makes something complicated for breakfast or to pack for lunch, so he’ll have to throw something together again until he gets in the habit of packing a lunch before bed. He supposes he could start grabbing food from a convenience store on his way to school, but he’d prefer to have something fresh and healthy. Plus, he’s not sure if his mother or Riko would get to him first if they found out he’d resorted to such a thing.

There’s more leftovers in the fridge from dinner. He could put some oden in a second thermos and have an egg on rice for breakfast; both would entail minimal work. Perfect. Feeling a little more secure with the structure of a plan, Tetsuya tries not to let the silence bear down on him and sets the water to boil. He scoops just one cup of rice into the rice cooker and idles for a moment as he tries to think of what to do next.

All of the appliances are humming louder than a choir.

The house feels empty.

Logically he knows his parents - or his mother at the very least - are home, but he feel completely alone. No one has heated the kettle, and no one is here to greet the day with him. He was too busy rushing yesterday morning to appreciate it, but right now he feels completely isolated. He will not speak to another human being until he gets to school. He doesn’t have anything in particular to say at the moment, but it puts a hollow feeling in his chest to know that no one is listening.

He’s in a liminal space.

Stuck between the new and the old. With no way to distinguish the two, he is left adrift, unsure of how to proceed until he rediscovers the well-beaten path he knows lies ahead. He just has to finish up here, and he’ll be back at school and back in reality. The kettle is whistling, a shrieking soprano that brings him back to awareness, and once it’s pulled off the hot burner it decrescendos to a simmering pianissimo before falling silent. He’s well aware of the selection, but regardless he idly peruses the tea cupboard and examines what’s available. Peppermint, Chamomile, Earl Grey, Ginger, pomegranate, Honey Lemon; far too many really, and quite frankly a few of them no one even likes, but they keep stocked up for guests. Yet among many brands and flavours his eyes hone in on one of his favourites, Vanilla Chai. While he prepares it, his phone buzzes in his pocket, the vibration pattern letting him know it’s a text. He checks the message after he leaves his tea to steep.

It’s Shige.

While he’s not as bad as Kise, he also likes to send several texts that could have easily been condensed into one, though he does have a sense of moderation when it comes to emojis at least. It’s a quick message wishing him a good morning and bidding him good luck on Valentine’s Day.

Oh, right. That’s today.

He’s glad he’s single, because he definitely couldn’t handle romancing a date on top of everything. He also can’t help but feel a vague echo of pity for his old teammates who are undoubtedly drowning in confessions. But then he remembers how much they always enjoyed watching him eat Momoi’s concoctions, and any sympathy converts into vindictive amusement. Kise is no doubt planning to send everyone in his contacts list an ungodly amount of hearts later on in the day. He wonders if Shige is popular at his new school as well. He’s certainly charming enough. Even back in elementary school he had a wide network of friends, and he feels lucky that he was never forgotten when there were so many other people to choose from.

But now he too has many friends to choose from, and he can afford to be a little more secure about his relationships. Not that he wants to lose any of them. He’s already proven that broken friendships can be mended, so he’s certain that if worst comes to worst, he can do it again.

He can’t lose anyone else right now.

~~He refuses~~

~~Couldn’t take it~~

He sends a brief text response to return each sentiment, then finishes preparing his tea, capping off the thermos and carefully sipping from a hot cup before opening the fridge. It’s a bit trickier than he’d like to transfer some of the oden into a second thermos without spilling, but luckily he had the foresight to do this over the sink. With his lunch prepared he now focuses on breakfast. He scoops out enough rice to fill his bowl and while it’s still steaming hot, he cracks an egg on the rim and dumps the contents onto his rice.

As a child tamago kake gohan was one of the first dishes he was taught to make. It quite literally cooks itself and he used to call it magic when it clumped together as he mixed it. Even now he can still feel a stirring of that innocent wonder, the echoes happier times washing over him like the tolls of a distant bell. He hadn’t bothered to season it so it tastes rather bland, but it’s a hot meal and that’s enough.

It’s quiet.

He finishes his food in silence, and his palms itch as he washes his dishes with near scalding water. Everything continues to slumber as he slips out the door, even the sun sleeps behind cloud cover as he shuffles to school in solitude. Dark skies and blearily blinking street lamps wink on and off in the weak morning light, nary another soul outside to observe the phenomena.

The air is still.

Empty.

It feels he’s walking through a ghost town, not a single bird chirping nor the whistle of the wind to be heard. Just sheer cold against his face as if the world is frozen and it raises goosebumps all along his skin. The sidewalk is uneven with icy footprints, the crisp pop and crunch they make underfoot like the crackle of an old recording. His boot catches in a groove causing him to nearly roll his ankle before he regains his balance. Basketball season may be over, but it would still be unfortunate to get injured. His phone alerts him of a new notification.

He expects it to be Kise, but it’s actually a picture from Momoi this time. First an image of her presenting a white box neatly wrapped with a translucent baby blue ribbon, dotted with little blue hearts. It’s captioned _‘Happy Valentine's Day Tetsu-kun!! <3 Wish you were here!!’_ and she has a proud smile on her face. She has a kind heart and an astoundingly sharp mind, but it’s undeniable that Momoi is a beautiful girl as well.

Before he can begin to think of a response he gets another notification. It’s Aomine. It seems that he had assisted her in her endeavours as a chocolatier because he’s sent a series of snapchat screenshots which appear to be taken the same day as Momoi’s picture. The first is an unidentifiable brown - almost black really – thick looking…paste? It has such an odd looking consistency and is most likely stuck in the pot. Though through context he’s able to piece together that it’s chocolate, and Aomine’s caption confirms it. _‘chocolate + water = THIS’_

There’s no way just water could have caused that. He’s never made chocolates before, but he’s pretty sure there had to have been a few steps in between.

The next image is a selfie of Aomine, a rather sullen look on his face as he sucks on his index finger. _‘im bleeding for ur stupid candy, appreciate it’_. He recognises the location as Momoi’s kitchen though, so if her parents _and_ Aomine are supervising, there’s a good chance the contents of the box are at least edible. Then, just a picture of half of Aomine’s stoic expression and in the background is…Momoi pouring something into a pot. It looks familiar though, and as soon as he distinguishes the logo he realizes it’s a vanilla milkshake from Maji Burger.

Horror and disgust force him to pause mid-step.

She couldn’t have boiled a milkshake.

Surely she knows one shouldn’t do that right? And he’s going to have to eat that? If regular milk is enough to make him nauseous, what’s curdled milk going to do to him…His stomach is already churning at the thought.

He’s relieved to find the next photo is of him dumping out a chunky brown mixture into a garbage bin. Aomine didn’t even have to type  _‘ur welcome’_ for Tetsuya to feel a deep sense of gratitude towards him. No longer concerned about getting his stomach pumped, he’s able to continue walking.

However now that he looks up, he notices that a few people have started to trickle out into the streets. Workers and student alike have appeared while he wasn’t looking, two milling down the sidewalks and a woman getting into her car.

People.

Reality.

He’s on his way to school.

To learn.

There is one image left and it’s a much less artistic photo of the gift Momoi was holding, just sitting on a table. _‘its not chocolate. I saved ur life. U owe me 10’_ He feels awful for thinking it, but Aomine certainly did do him a favour. That would’ve been a rather large box of chocolates and he would’ve felt guilty if he didn’t eat at least two-thirds of them after she worked so hard. He sends a text of sincere thanks to Momoi and a snarkier one to Aomine, though he wishes them both a happy Valentine’s Day. He wonders if this means he should expect a visit from them after school to deliver it. Neither of them had said as much, so he supposes a visit is something to look forward to in the near future.

He can see Seirin in the distance from here, a fair amount of people milling about, flowing in and out the gates like ants around a mound. He’s absorbed into the crowd and is briskly swept inside by the flow of the traffic. There are hearts everywhere, not by design but with so many students giving and receiving valentines they’re impossible to avoid. His locker looks outstandingly plain, completely barren of stickers and not a single letter poking out from a secret admirer. He swaps out his boots for indoor shoes and tucks away his other outdoor gear, before making his way to class. Groups of girls giggling in the halls, boys bantering by their lockers, all hoping someone has their eye on them. Hope and love and warmth permeates the air, glazes eyes and clogs the hallways as people linger out of hesitation.

He's never felt that sense of longing or anticipation for love. He’s already been endowed with admiration from his friends today, so perhaps that’s why he feels so detached from the expectant atmosphere. He usually prefers to keep to himself or spend time with Halmeoni during holidays that celebrate togetherness and generate feelings comradery. But now it just serves to remind him that she’s dead, and his parent’s won’t be home tonight either. It opens up this cold, yawning chasm in his chest, a familiar feeling of people picking pieces of him and leaving vacancy in return. It makes him think of a bloated corpse, a feast for the ravens one peck away from tearing open and spilling out half-rotten guts and maggots…

The classroom is bright and lively as people chirp and chatter, flaunting the gifts they’ve already accepted or exchanging chocolates right now. As he draws nearer to his desk, much to his surprise he notes that the one in front of his has two parcels waiting for their recipient. One a tiny basket of cookies, and the other a red heart-shaped box with the face tiger on the lid, and a lace trim decorating the edges. He is curious as to who would have the guts to confess to Kagami, but it’s none of his business so he focuses on getting himself situated at his own desk.

It’s when he just starts reading one of his casual novels that he hears Kagami speak, and sees him standing next to his desk. “Eh? What’s this?”

He re-marks his place and has a witty response on the tip of his tongue before he even sees Kagami’s face, but as soon as he cranes his neck high enough the words die in his mouth. He feels absolutely nauseous as soon as he gets a good look at him. It was bloody and swollen yesterday, but now it’s a collage of colours that make him dizzy with horror. He’s so taken aback by Kagami’s face that it completely slips his mind to control his expression.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Kagami makes a half-aborted movement to steady him, but he seems to have realized he’s already sitting.

“You’re face.” He croaks.

“What?” Kagami touches his motley coloured skin. “Oh, I’m fine. It’ll go away in a week or something.” He says easily. He slings his things onto his desk almost carelessly knocking his forgotten gifts to the floor before he sits and twists around to continue facing Tetsuya. “You don’t look so good. Should you even be here? You’re kinda pale.”

“You’re face.” He repeats in that same breathless tone. He’s fixated on the sight. The left side appears to have taken the brunt of the impact. From part of his cheekbone to the nostril and just under eye, is a violent spectrum of deep purple to sickly yellow with undertones of green. Realistically he knows it’s not that big, but it’s almost in the middle of his face so it’s impossible to miss. It looks like someone punched him. Actually, he probably would have looked better off if that _had_ happened.

He did this.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had worse remember?” Kagami is even smiling at him but he can’t see past the _blood_. “Oi, Kuroko.”

He doesn’t want to see it anymore. He glances around the classroom just for a break but he quickly realizes that people are staring. At Kagami. They’re whispering, without a doubt they’re speculating about what happened to him. They already think he’s some idiot delinquent, and while his reputation with the basketball club has improved his image, they probably still think he’s been out fighting-

His thoughts are derailed by a sudden, but brief flash of pain. Kagami flicked his forehead.

“ _Hey_. Look at me Kuroko. Forget them.”

He feels positively ill. He hadn’t even thought about the social repercussions of what he’d done. If anyone else had planned to confess to him, they certainly won't now.“Kagami-kun, everyone’s looking at you.”

The redhead just shrugs. “So let them, when aren’t they?”

Fair enough. Between his height, his hair colour and his eyebrows he is a lot to take in at a glance. But this bruise actually reinforces their baseless assumptions, and the last thing he wants is for Kagami to be ostracized when he’s one of the kindest people he knows. “They’re spreading rumours.” He’s schooled most of his expression, but he can’t flatten the light frown that curves his lips downward.

Kagami rolls his eyes. “When _aren’t_ they?” He repeats.

Still… “I’m very sorry Kagami-kun.”

“Geez, I know you are! I said its fine, so stop with the sad eyes.” Tetsuya isn’t even able to muster up annoyance when Kagami uses a large hand to ruffle his hair.

Still, he can’t help but wish Kagami would get mad. He almost wants Kagami to punch him in the face to make it even, but he knows his light would never agree to that arrangement. At least not without proper provocation, but he really doesn’t want to hurt Kagami any more than he already has. So there’s only one thing to do, and if he’s good at anything, it’s putting aside his grievances for the sake of productivity. He swallows back the sickness, all of the tar-like guilt and discomfort that clogs his throat to put on a smile. He forces the tightness around his eyes to relax and aside from the void behind his face, he knows he looks assuaged.

“Alright.”

He nearly holds his breath as Kagami scans his face. He won’t crack though. He is darkness. He is the void which blackens any light, and not even Kagami can penetrate his defenses. Feelings are tossed into the blackhole, the bottomless pit where unfortunate thoughts and emotions go to die. He feels oddly proud when Kagami leans back and sighs.

Everything is fine.

“So anyways, what’s with these packages?” He asks as he picks one up. The heart-shaped box.

“It’s Valentines Kagami-kun. Don’t they have this holiday in America?”

Kagami scowls. “I know that, I mean why are they on my desk?” He tilts the box this way and that, inspecting it with such scrutiny one could think it were a bomb. While the little basket of biscuits has a tag tied around the wicker handle by a ribbon, the box is without a letter of any kind.

“Perhaps Kagami-kun has secret admirers.” It wouldn’t be so far-fetched. Between his peer fabricated rebel persona, his place as the ace of the team and his true endearing personality; he could imagine someone striking up the courage to confess to him.

Kagami is definitely someone worth admiring.

“Huh…weird.” He mumbles, but his attempt to sound blasé is undermined by blush warming his cheeks. He holds the box by its top and gently shakes it loose until the bottom plops onto Tetsuya’s desk, revealing an assortment of well-made hand crafted chocolates. A folded missive flutters to the ground and Kagami picks it up to read.

He doesn’t read it aloud, so Tetsuya reads his face for any clues about its contents. His cheeks have cooled and he looks rather serious as he pours over the note. When he’s done, he refolds the missive carefully and slips it into his pocket.

After a moment of silence, Tetsuya prompts him to speak. “…So?”

Kagami grimaces. “It’s a confession.”

“And?”

“I can’t accept it. I don’t even know who they are and they just asked me to meet them by the library ten minutes after school. I know that’s just the thing you do here, but I’d rather know this person before just being ambushed like this.” He rubs the back of his neck looking like the picture of apologetic.

He can’t help but feel pity for him. “Perhaps it’s someone you know.”

“Maybe…” He lids the box and lifts the next gift by the handle. He wastes no time grabbing the tag and reading, but by the end of this apparently brief message Kagami looks almost relieved. “They just admire my basketball, and want me to keep working hard.” He explains with a grin. “No need to tell me that.” Kagami has brightened again, that blazing determination shining through like usual when basketball is mentioned. It’s contagious, spreads like a wildfire and Tetsuya himself is burning with the desire to practice for next year.

However, they’re both reminded of the remaining semester they still have to get through when the teacher enters the classroom and the bell rings.

 

* * *

 

Lunch is the only other thing of note that happens today. They don’t always meet in the cafeteria, but most days a majority of the basketball team congregates to eat together. It’s too cold to eat outside this time of year, so they’ve been sitting at a table together. Perhaps it was a mistake to pack both soup and a hot drink. While it is winter outside, inside the building is a comfortable temperature. Maybe he could trade his tea for someone else’s drink or just grab a carton of juice from a machine…

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Kawahara, who’s seated on his left and Kagami to his right. “Hey Kuroko, did you get any valentines?”

Everyone looks at him curiously. “Just from Momoi-san, however she was unable to actually deliver it today.” In addition to the text from Shige, which doesn’t really count. Now that he thinks about it, Kise still hasn’t blown up his phone with nonsense today…

Kagami looks surprised and relieved. “Geez Kuroko, why didn’t you say that sooner! I felt kinda bad everyone forgot you again.” He says.

He sighs almost wistfully and looks Kagami dead in the eyes as he says, “Ah, I suppose us regular guys seem rather pitiful when Kagami-kun is toting around two…”

Chaos.

“Haaaah?! What do you mean Bakagami got two?!” Roars Hyuuga as he squeezes said underclassmen’s head from across the table.

“Knock it off!” Kagami bats his hands away. “I don’t even want ‘em! It’s super uncomfortable!”

Fukuda is nearly foaming at the mouth at those words. “So you’re an ungrateful bastard too huh?”

“Are you sure they were for _you_? Maybe they couldn’t find Kuroko’s desk and hoped you would deliver them.” Interjects Kawahara.

“Oi! They were addressed to me!”

“Probably before they saw your face.” He taunts with a smirk.

It was funny at the time, but now he just feels guilty for throwing Kagami under the bus even after yesterday. It wasn’t his place to say anything, especially when he saw how troubled he is by them.

“No need to be jealous,” Riko sounds far too cheerful for that to mean anything good. “I made chocolates for everyone!” She chirps as she pulls out a black rectangular box with a bright red and white bow, then sets it in the middle of the table for easy access. The bottom looks a bit soggy, which is concerning.

In the brief moment of terror-induced silence Koganei whispers, “Ominous…”

“Th-Thanks Riko-senpai…” Says Furihata with a shaky smile on his face.

“I think I’ve had enough chocolate for today, my girlfriend and all…” Says Tsuchida with rather shifty eyes.

Kiyoshi jumps right in with him. “Ahaha, me too, I was surprisingly popular this year.”

“Yep yep. I’ve had a choco-lot.” Izuki throws in nervously.

“Bastards! Cowards! All of you!” Cries Hyuuga.

“Nonsense! I only made one chocolate for everyone. They were supposed to be little packs of four per person, but…” She suddenly has a haunted look in her eyes. “There were some technical difficulties, and these were the best looking.” It’s rather unsetting how self-aware she’s become. However, where Momoi recognises a lost cause, Riko pushes on with the determination to finish.

 The box is almost emanating an aura of danger.

But it would be rude to refuse when she put in so much effort, and hard work is something he can respect. He supposes this is karma for not having to eat Momoi’s this year…

Careful not to crush the box despite it’s already compromised integrity, Tetsuya removes the cover to reveal a folded piece of paper on top.

“Eh? What’s this?” Asks Kiyoshi with a cuious tilt of his head. He picks up the paper and unfolds it to reveal an illegible mess. Between the incomprehensible diagrams and the chocolate stains smudging their explanations, its anyone’s guess as to what it says.

Riko brightens at their discovery. “Oh, I drew that as a chart. It tells you which one is what flavour. I made one plain one, then I started adding an ingredient for each new flavour.” She explains.

“Er…so which is which?” Asks Tsuchida.

They watch carefully as Riko inspects each treat. There are eleven chocolates as promised, but they all look just as deformed as the one next to it, especially when there’s a thick coating of confectioner’s sugar dusted overtop. She hums.

Riko looks to Kiyoshi. “Can I see that sheet?”

Once he relinquishes it with a smile, Riko takes her time inspecting the page, then calmly folds it and sets it down. While he’s content with taking the last one, everyone else is sitting tensely with baited breath, ready to claw hands for the one she deems safe.

A pause, then, “I have no idea.” She freely admits.

His teammates cry out in agony, but they quickly lower their volume once the supervising teacher gives them the stink eye.

“M-Maybe if we just look at the page again-“ Furihata reaches for the slip, but Izuki snatches it right from under his fingers.

“I think I’ll take a page out of your book…That was a good one, where’s my pencil?” While Izuki searches his surrounding for it, Hyuuga takes the paper and unfolds it.

“Shut up Izuki!”

“We have to work together, said Mitobe!” Cries Koganei, Mitobe nodding right beside him.

“Maybe if you turn it sideways?” Kiyoshi airily suggests, yet Hyuuga actually listens to him despite the fact to it just turns the writing on its side.

“I have a date after school and Tori’s going to kill me if I don’t show, please take this a little more seriously.”

While their seniors fool around, Fukuda asks the important question. “What did you even put in them?”

Riko smiles. “A bit of this, a bit of that. Some cinnamon, strawberry jam, caramel – oh but don’t worry, I didn’t put any nuts because I know you’re allergic. There’s also some mint and vanilla extract…I forget what else, but I guess that’s part of the surprise!”

Kagami blinks. “Wait, so there’s one that’s just chocolate, and there’s another that has eleven different ingredients?...No, wait, just ten.” He amends.

Furihata looks sick.

Fukuda turns to Kagami in shock. “Yes actually. Wow, guess that math test wasn’t a fluke after all.

“Or at least you didn’t cheat off of someone.” Adds Kawahara.

“Hey! And why would you make chocolates like that?!”

Riko looks sheepish. "By the time I realized I had to seperate the chocolate for each ingredient, it was too late..."

"So you kept adding?!"

As entertaining as this is, the chocolates aren’t getting any less deadly. So Tetsuya decides to bite the bullet and pick one at random. No one seems to notice him taking the one sitting in the one in the middle until they hear a loud crunch.

That hurt.

It’s _very_ crunchy and so grainy it’s almost like a stale cookie, but it’s undeniably chocolate, even if it’s a little burnt. Everyone is watching him with fearful eyes, though Riko’s shine with anticipation. It takes some time to eat, but once he’s finished he gives his statement. “Aaah, it’s chocolate. Thank you Riko-san, the powdered sugar was a nice touch.”

She looks absolutely overjoyed. “Aw, thank you Kuroko-kun! I knew I could always count on you! That’s right, everyone take theirs now!” She instructs with a proud grin.

As soon as he said it was just chocolate, the rest of the team started giving him death stares. Even Kiyoshi’s smile has an edge to it as he takes a remainder.

“Pick your poison…” Koganei mutters as he selects his.

“This feels like Russian Roulette, and Kuroko just took the only blank…” Whimpers Kawahara.

Izuki holds his chocolate in the air, as if giving a toast. “It’s been a pleasure serving you captain, bonbon voyage-"

“Die!” Hyuuga yells as he crams his into Izuki’s mouth.

It’s a good thing they don’t have practice today, because in the matter of minutes half the team is incapacitated.

By the end of the day, he finds himself alone and feeling quite disgruntled. Kagami had to head for the library to turn down a confession and Tetsuya himself wanted to hand in his test. He had walked all the way to the staff room to deliver it, and after the customary re-introduction he had handed over the sheet. To which his math teacher said, _“I don’t need this back, I just wanted to make sure your parents saw it.”_ Which was quite frustrating because it meant he could’ve just burned the paper and no one would’ve missed it.

…He wouldn’t have, but it’s the principle.

At least the day is over, and he made it through with minimal damage. Tomorrow will be another non-romanticised day, and the masses will return to their average existence until the next holiday. Already, some of his neighbouring lockers have been stripped down, and his own unembellished locker fades deeper into obscurity as it becomes one of the growing many. It's busy and foot traffic is rough on him with people eager to leave, their bags of presents jostling and jabbing at him even when their owners don’t shove. Though it’s still not quite a miracle he sees him despite the crowd. Even while wearing a hat tugged down to his brows and a scarf pulled over his nose, his molten gold eyes and designer clothes draw attention.

If he ever had any doubt as to who was waiting at the school gates, that flawlessly applied eyeliner would never mislead him.

He seems to be searching desperately, clearly concerned he’s going to miss his target and for a moment Tetsuya considers slipping by him, but that would be mean when he came all this way. So when he’s nearly right in front of the blond he tonelessly says, “Hello Kise-kun.”

Kise whips his head towards him so violently a bit of the scarf he wrapped around his face unwinds. “Kurokocchi!” Kise is heedless of the people he bumps as he moves to hug him.

Tetsuya steps out of range before he gets the life squeezed out of him. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, it’s Valentine’s Day!” He can tell by the radiant sparkle in his eyes that Kise is widely smiling.

“But you’re not a girl and we’re not dating.” Tetsuya insists as he starts walking.

Kise grabs his arm before he can disappear. “Obviously, but today is about love! Any and all kinds! Anyways I have to swing by my agency today, but I realized we could make a stop at Seirin, so I asked Watari-san – one of the company drivers – if we could take you and Kagamicchi home or something; and he said he doesn’t mind because he’s so nice like that! It’s super cold outside and I was worried you might get sick, and I remembered your asthma gets worse outside too so I thought it would nice. Hey, where _is_ Kagamicchi? I was looking for him since I knew I wouldn’t be able to find you. It’s so crowded today-”

Tetsuya pulls away. “There’s no need Kise-kun, I can walk just fine. Kagami-kun is busy with something so he told me to go on ahead.” Besides, he doesn’t want to make Kise late just to save some time.

Kise’s well-shaped eyebrows furrow together and tears start to build up. Kise is definitely pouting. “B-But Kurokocchi, I’m already here…”

That is true. He sighs, and a plume of vapour is expelled from his mouth. “…Then I suppose I’ll accept your offer. Thank you Kise-kun.”

The blond throws a fist into the air. “Yes! Follow me Kurokocchi!” Kise suddenly laughs to himself. “That rhymed. Follow me Kurokocchi, we parked just down the road!”

And as he’s excitedly yanked down the street, Tetsuya hardly has a moment to regret this before he’s all but shoved into the car once Kise opens the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonbon voyage is my crowning achievement this chapter, and no one can convince me otherwise. I have way too much fun writing Izuki, I love puns. This chapter really got away from me. I was planning on getting Kise written into this chapter, but then the part with Kagami’s face and Valentine’s Day stuff really took over. I didn’t even think about Kuroko’s reaction to Kagami’s face until I was writing, so I was surprised by how dark that kinda got.
> 
> Next chapter - unless I get sidetracked - Kuroko and Kise have a heart-to-heart and Tetsuya comes home to a surprise. [Some author's notes on chapter 9!](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/post/166256231430/about-chapter-9)


	10. Hyperacusis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Hyperacusis is a problem that affects about 5% of the population and 50% of patients with troublesome tinnitus. It is defined as a reduced tolerance to everyday environmental sounds._ _The most common causes of hyperacusis are hearing loss, noise trauma [...], head injury, adverse reaction to some medications or surgeries, chronic ear infections and posttraumatic stress disorder. Hyperacusis can come on suddenly or gradually."_ [(Canadian Hearing Society) ](https://www.chs.ca/tinnitus-and-hyperacusis)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late!! Between what's probably executive dysfunction and adhd (a rock and a hard place) Even though I think about this story all the time and open up the document at least once a day, I have a really hard time focusing long enough to sit down and make consistent progress. First of all Massive Thanks for the millionth time to OfMiragesandOtherFalseTruths for some minor corrections on the Korean in chapters 4 & 5\. If you see any other mistakes of any kind everyone is free to point them out. It’s crazy when I see how many international readers I have, major kudos to people reading outside of their mother tongue.
> 
> To all the Kise fans out there, I hope my first attempt does him justice, have mercy on me, I tried.

The SUV is packed full of presents. 

Kise has to transfer a few bags to the front passenger seat just to climb into the back with him. Glitter, hearts, and tissue paper have completely overrun most of the vehicle; even the trunk area is laden with parcels. Kise was popular back in middle school, but it seems his fanbase has really expanded. It’s truly no surprise that Kise works as a model. Even if his sister hadn’t introduced him, he definitely could’ve been scouted through his own merit. He watches as the blond removes his hat and scarf without any sort of flourish, but Kise is the kind of person to make even hat hair look artful. 

“Sorry about all the stuff Kurokocchi," He says sheepishly. "That’s part of the reason Watari-san had to come get me. Waaah, it was crazy! There were even a few people from other schools waiting for me at the gates, before _and_ after school.”  

Tetsuya tries to get a look at the driver, but the man doesn’t turn to acknowledge his new passenger. Regardless Tetsuya is able to gleam that the man is likely in his late forties, judging by his graying hair and the crow’s feet he can see from the rear-view mirror. Once they’re both buckled in and situated, the vehicle smoothly rolls forward. He supposes Kise already gave him his address then. 

“So Kurokocchi, how’s your day been?” Kise is almost vibrating in his seat with excitement. 

“It’s been-” The radio is playing at a volume that necessitates him to raise his voice. “It’s been decent.” 

“What happened? Did you get any valentines?” He prods, physically leaning closer as if to look for them. 

“Just from Momoi-san, though Riko-senpai made chocolates for the whole team.” 

“Aw, that’s so nice! Riko-san’s your coach right? And Momoicchi sent me this really cute e-card, we should go visit her on White Day together! Oh, oh! I got a ton of really cool valentines this year! Kurokocchi you’re not going to believe some of them!” He continues to gush as he digs around in all the bags on the floor. “I’ve already posted a few pictures of some on my official instagram and twitter! Some people even tagged me in pictures of valentines they couldn’t send, my fans are so sweet! You should get Instagram so I can send you posts Kurokocchi!”  

His friends have already made him download Snapchat, Facebook and Twitter; he can hardly be bother to log-in to any of them so another app to slow down his phone doesn’t sound appealing. “Definitely not.” 

"So mean..." Kise mumbles, but then shrugs it off before using both hands to pull out the largest chunk of chocolate he’s ever seen in person. “Catch!” It’s hardly a warning when he’s already tossed it, but Tetsuya still manages to catch it so he doesn’t bother feeling annoyed by it. The bumpy texture of the grapefruit-sized sphere is surprisingly familiar, and now that he has the chance to examine it he realizes it’s a basketball. It’s definitely solid chocolate, and it has enough weight to it that he could undoubtedly do some damage. 

“Isn’t it amazing?! They even got the feel of it right! I’d rub it all day but it already started melting on my hands so I had to put it down. I don’t even think I can eat it! Literally! A few people have suggested a hammer, but I’d feel bad about just smashing it…” That certainly is a conundrum. It would be quite difficult to just bite into it as well since it’s far denser than a fruit. 

Kise takes it back and thrusts a bag of sugar cookies into his hands. “These ones have my name stamped on them, isn’t that neat?”

He nods and Kise continues his display. He reaches by Tetsuya’s feet for the next one. “This one is really cool, It’s a picture of me! Careful, it’s fragile.” Kise holds out a plaque of chocolate wrapped in a plastic foil. Its transparency allows him to still get a clear look at it and It is indeed a value portrait of a chibi-style Kise. It's made with just four different shades of chocolate, but its simplicity allows for good readability.

“Aren’t these so cool? Everyone was so jealous! Aaaah, I love my fans.” Kise sighs in content and finally relaxes into his seat. 

“They certainly are…dedicated…” Fans are frightening creatures. If he’s being honest, this almost aggressive show-and-tell is a bit overwhelming, and the cloying smell of chocolate is on the verge of giving him a headache. Though thankfully Kise doesn’t seem to be looking for his opinions, just his general reactions.

Suddenly, the blond turns to him with a conspiring smile. “Hey, Kurokocchi. You can’t tell anyone, but this one is my favourite so far.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a heart-shaped pink balloon. It isn’t nearly inflated, but it’s also not empty. “It’s full of flour and it works like a stress ball. A girl in my class gave it to me, I forget her name and she’s usually super quiet, but she has a fidget ring too. I think she made hers herself though – it’s like, made out of metal and it has these little hoops attached- you have to see it, I’m bad at explaining. Still, it’s super nice and it’s like having that Kinetic Sand Murasakibaracchi gave me for Christmas, only portable, I love it! Here, try it.” 

He’s never felt the need to stim so he doubts he’ll be able to appreciate it as much, but he accepts Kise’s offer to just to appease him. It’s soft and does have a nice density to it, but ultimately it doesn’t capture his attention beyond its novelty. He gives it back and Kise wastes no time to start squeezing it again. 

“The only downside is that my manager probably won’t let me carry it around, because people might get upset if I show that kind of favouritism. It’ll be fine if I keep it hidden in my pocket though, right?” 

He can only shrug. Even as a consumer he knows nothing about the entertainment industries. 

Kise mimics the motion and pushes on. “Anyways, there’s this new song I found that wanted to show you! I really liked the last artist you showed me, so,” He puts down the balloon and pulls out his phone. He taps the screen a few times and the music that had already been playing cuts off abruptly for this new song. 

“My phone is hooked up to the car with Bluetooth.” He explains. “Anyways, what do you think?” 

It’s barely five seconds in, and no lyrics have been sung.  

“The song hasn’t started yet Kise-kun.” He says tonelessly.  

Kise is a good friend, and he’s fun to spend time with, but he is best in measured doses. He can be exhausting because he wants _every_ detail. While his lights can be just as talkative and excitable, they all understand that sometimes he just…can’t engage. But Kise is the kind of person who thrives off of responses and isn’t content with just talking _at_ him, and he’s almost literally physically incapable of sitting in silence.

Kise laughs to himself, but it sounds a bit …off. “Sorry sorry! I just really want you to like it, you have to translate it for me.” 

It’s just an average pop song by another girl group. It’s produced very well and their voices are pleasing but the lyrics are nothing special, so he says as much. “They’re just singing about their ideal type of man, I’d have to listen a few times to give you an exact translation, and I'd rather not when you could just Google it.”  

At first Kise pouts in response, but suddenly he perks up as he likely gets an idea. “I _was_ going to wait until we got to your house, but – how far are we Watari-san?” 

“About five minutes. I can make it shorter.” His voice is rough and deep. The man is responding to Kise, but for some reason he locks gazes with Tetsuya – his eyes are unfathomably dark, the ink of an unwritten story. 

Wordless contempt.  

Tetsuya feels sick. 

He looks away. 

Kise beams at the driver. “Alrighty, thanks Watari-san. So anyways, I…” Rather than finishing the sentence, Kise goes rifling through all the gifts again. He really hopes Kise doesn’t doesn’t plan on offloading some of these chocolates on him. Not only would that be rude, but he still has more than enough from the Ogiwara’s. 

Kise thrusts a red gift bag at him, on the side is a dog holding a paper lantern in it’s mouth. “Surprise! It’s for you!” He sings. 

Tetsuya reluctantly accepts it, but rather than opening it now he sets it next to him. “Um, thank you Kise-kun, but why?” 

“Weeeell, I’m following D-Jin from this other K-pop group I’ve been listening to, and he was tweeting about S…Seo…llal? – did I say that right? - And I remembered you’ve mentioned celebrating a few times, and was thinking about how sad you were on Saturday so I thought it would be nice.” 

Oh. 

“I…Thank you Kise-kun, that’s very thoughtful. I’m sorry, I hadn't thought to get you anything.” He makes an effort to genuinely smile but for some reason Kise still looks displeased. 

Kise groans. “Kurokocchi you have to open it now!” He whines. 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to open it tomorrow?” 

“Kurokocchiiii, I wanna see your face when you open it!” 

All of the yelling, the music blasting with enough bass to massage his muscles, and the sickly sweet stench of chocolate really is giving him a headache now. “Fine.” 

Kise claps his hands excitedly as Tetsuya reaches into the bag. At first he feels cool, smooth metal, a cylindrical tin with unknown contents until he pulls it out. He doesn’t get the chance to read the label for himself before Kise blurts, “It’s ginseng! I googled Seollal gifts and it was suggested, is that true?” 

Tetsuya himself has no idea because the only other family they exchange gifts with are Mi-Suk and her daughter's family, the Park’s. They usually just give them sake cups while Mi-Suk brings some kind of alcohol in exchange. Then the adults have a drink or two while he and Tae-Yeon sit and listen with juice or go for a walk outside until they go home. 

Kise continues, “There’s another box in there, I wasn’t sure if you preferred loose-leaf or bagged so I got both. Soooo?” 

“Thank you very much Kise-kun, ginseng is also very good for health. I’m grateful.” He tries smiling again. 

“No problem Kurokocchi!” 

They drift off into a silence and Kise is still smiling at him expectantly.  

He’s…not sure what else Kise wants from him. 

Though he could be reading his expression wrong… 

He supposes if it’s important, Kise will say something. 

The blond jolts excitedly, almost bouncing in his seat as if physically struck by his next idea. “Um, do you want to make a stop at Maji Burger? I’ll buy you as many milkshakes as your fridge can hold!” 

Normally he would at least consider it, but he just wants to lay in bed right now. “Thank you for the offer, but I would like to go straight to my house. You shouldn’t ditch work to mess around either, Kise-kun.” Kise deflates all over again, but he seems to go right back to silently scheming, so Tetsuya is content to let him plot the next interruption. He uses the pause to peer out the window.  

He’s not too familiar with this route, but he’s not lost; if he had to hazard a guess it would just be a ten minute walk from here. Not that he’s in any particular rush to get home either. There's nothing waiting there for him. Aside from Nigou, he supposes, but as much comfort as Nigou provides it’s just not the same as- 

“I’m sorry Kurokocchi.” 

Tetsuya’s head snaps back in the blond’s direction out of sheer surprise. Kise apologizing isn’t quite the thing that shocks him, but the quiet defeat in his tone is always a startling rarity. 

The next bubbly pop-song starts playing. 

“…Why?” 

That model smile on his face has twisted into something rueful. “Like I said, you were really sad before, so I came to see if I could cheer you up. I know you don’t like it when I just show up, but you don’t respond to my texts much. Even Midorimacchi said this was too much, but I didn’t think he knew what he was talking about.” 

 “That’s not true Kise-kun, I really do appreciate your time. I…It’s not you.” Now that he thinks about it, perhaps he has been acting rather aloof, and it’s not all that surprising Kise has taken it personally considering their past interactions. 

He watches as Kise fumbles with the balloon, pinching and poking at it absently as he stares out the window. “It’s okay Kurokocchi. I know I’m not Aominecchi, but I was still hoping I could do something…it seems like I’ve only been bothering you though…” 

“No Kise-kun, I apologize.” Tetsuya insists. “I haven’t been very fair to you. I’ve been…distracted lately, but I’m always very grateful that you take the time to visit. If I wanted to see Aomine-kun, I know where to find him. I really am thankful that you’ve gone through so much trouble for my sake.”  

The look it puts on Kise’s face.  

“Really?” He looks genuinely stunned. 

Tetsuya honestly didn’t mean to make him feel like this. It’s just easy to be so dismissive of Kise because he always comes back but…that’s such an awful way of thinking. As soon as the revelation hits him he feels disgusted with himself. He would never treat anyone else like that, so why... 

Kise is glowing like a match in a cave, eyes blown wide and glittering with unshed tears. It’s like the embers of a bonfire; a kindling of hope that’s threatening to grow at the slightest of encouragement. “I…no. Maybe we _all_ take you for granted. We often say hurtful things with the expectation that you’ll laugh it off.” It never would’ve killed him to respond when Kise sends a proper text, and in hindsight it was rather conceded to expect Kise to message him first today when he was just as capable.  

“Eh? No no no, I know you guys don’t mean everything. We’re just kidding around, and we pick on Ahomine too.” He’s grinning again and even chuckles to himself, but something still doesn’t sit right. 

“We don’t mean _any_ of it.” Tetsuya corrects firmly. Kise is staring at him so intently that he’s not sure if they’ve ever really _seen_ each other like this before. This is clearly the time to really lay himself bare to Kise. If he really wants to impress upon him just how much he appreciates him, he’ll have to be _open_ and _honest_ right now. Just the thought fills him with a deep discomfort. 

He doesn’t like lying and he doesn’t plan on lying to Kise, but saying the unfiltered words of approval that he knows Kise is waiting for is just too…  

The idea terrifies him for some reason. 

 _‘As overbearing as you can be, we all like you just the way you are. I admire your perseverance. The way you always work harder when you miss the standard you set for yourself._ _I like all of your messages because it’s interesting to see what you_ _’_ _r_ _e_ _up to, and it means you’re thinking about me._ _I’d reciprocate more of your enthusiasm, but I_ can’t _, and it’s not your fault I’_ _m like this, and I don’t even know what would come pouring out if I_ weren’t _anymore_ _, so please don’t suffer for my shortcomings_ _._ _’_  

The thought of saying _any_ of that out loud just fills him with terror. The words lodge in his throat like fishhooks and it feels like something is actually tearing when he manages to say, “You are one of my treasured friends, and I’m sorry I made room for doubt.” It’s hardly everything he had wanted to convey, but even that much felt like it had taken a chunk out of him. He feels vulnerable, and it’s not something he’s fond of.  

But it’s worth it, because Kise is positively radiant. Aside from Murasakibara, Kise is the one who needs him the least in order to shine. Kise could never be his light because he’s _too_ bright. He would be erased completely by his presence, become almost entirely redundant if he learned how to pass like him. He hopes his past behaviour wasn't due to some kind of unconscious petty insecurity, but he wouldn’t put it past himself either. 

Kise is legitimately crying. Very real, round Studio Ghibli tears are rolling down his red cheeks and he looks completely unaware of them. It’s awful he can reduce someone to actual tears with just a few nice words. It makes him feel slimy. He doesn’t want that kind of power over anyone. 

“Please don’t cry.” Tetsuya whispers, but Kise shakes his head vigorously.

“I-I can’t! Kurokocchiiii! That was too nice! I’m supposed to cheer you up, b-but- you- I-” He dabs at his face with part of his scarf, somehow still conscious of his makeup. “I’m so _happy_!” 

 _‘You shouldn’t be.’_ Tetsuya thinks to himself.  

He sighs. Friendship is a two-way street, and he should start reciprocating it. He really has no idea if he’s supposed to just hold his arms out or just grab him like Kise himself would, so he settles for asking. “Would you like a… _hug_?” The word tastes strange. 

Kise wastes no time lunging at him, yanking his seatbelt to the limit in order to nuzzle his face into the crook of Tetsuya’s shoulder. “Am I dying? Did we crash?” He mutters wetly. 

Is really he that discouraging? 

Kise has his arms thrown around his neck, he’s almost being strangled by his tight grip and he’s not sure what to do with his own. Hesitantly rests his hands over the blond’s shoulder blades and every few seconds he gently gives him a pat, though he can’t help but think of it as tapping out for mercy. He both sees and feels the car roll to a stop just by the front of his house, but Kise shows no signs of unlatching. He supposes Kise has earned this much for his loyalty so he endures it in silence, though he is greatly relieved when Watari pointedly clears his throat.  

“Kise-san, we’ve arrived.”  

He slowly pulls away sniffling, wiping at his face; and miraculously despite such intense crying he still looks rather put together, which is completely unfair. 

“Thanks Kurokocchi…somehow you ended up comforting me instead…” He says sheepishly. 

“It’s alright Kise-kun, I’m glad I could help.” Even though he caused the problem in the first place. 

He gathers his things (double checking it’s actually his gift from Kise that he’s picked up,) and opens the car door. “Happy Valentine’s Day Kurokocchi! And happy New Years!” Kise shouts while he climbs out of the vehicle, and he’s immediately bombarded by wind.  

He almost has to shout in order to be heard over the music and the rushing air. “Thank you for the ride Kise-kun! Watari-san! Happy Valentine’s day and Seollal!”  

Kise is still shouting fare-wells and waving his arms wildly as he closes the door. Even as he walks to his porch the SUV remains idling on the side of the road, and it’s not until he works the front door open and steps inside that they drive away. He’ll really have to be conscious of how he interacts with Kise in the future. 

The house is dark and silent, as expected. 

“I’m home.” He whispers to himself as he turns on a light. While he unzips his jacket he notes that Nigou hasn’t come running, so he reasons that the dog must be sleeping somewhere. He toes off his boots and puts them away before heading towards the kitchen to put away the tea. He had also planned on finishing his homework there with a snack, but just as he steps inside he’s startled to find it’s already occupied.  

His first thought is an intruder, but this figure doesn’t react in the slightest to his arrival. As his eyes adjust to the lack of illumination he manages to identify the mysterious being. 

His father is just sitting there in the dark. He’s still wearing his usual work clothes, a white dress shirt and black slacks, so he must have come home early for some reason. 

He’s hunched over the table in his chair, bracing himself on the surface and his clasped hands are resting against his forehead. If he hadn’t known any better he would have assumed his father was praying. Tetsuya is unable to see if he had been doing anything prior, but right now he‘s holding himself perfectly still. His face is well shadowed and his hands further obstruct his view, so Tetsuya has no idea what kind of expression he's is making or the look in his father's eyes.  

 Without any clear cues he’s unsure of how to proceed. Give him some space or take a closer look?  

The hum of the fridge is one steady note, and it only re-enforces the feeling that he’s looking at a pocket of frozen time. 

The first step is to get his attention. 

“F…Father?” He whispers, but his voice is lost in the vacuum. It’s all in his head, but the atmosphere is so tense it’s suffocating. 

Hesitantly, he takes a step forward. “Father.” He repeats a little louder. 

Still no response. 

Should he try once more? Get a little closer?  

Maybe he’s being ignored. 

Maybe he’s just not trying hard enough. 

He breaks out into a cold sweat, dread blooming in his gut and spreading like ivy, coiling tighter and _tighter_ around his lungs. 

Fight or flight. 

 _Fight or flight._  

“Fa…father?” It’s hardly audible to his own ears by the time it squeezes past the lump in his throat. 

Quietly, he backs out of the room.  

   
The tension stays in his shoulders even as he slips down the hallway. Every time his bags crinkle a spike of anxiety shoots through him like a jolt of electricity. Only when his bedroom door closes behind him can he begin to relax, and he sinks to the floor on shaky legs while leaning back on the door. 

What…was that? 

He’s not sure why he felt so nervous. There was just something inexplicably eerie about that moment, something in the air that just deeply unsettled him. He’s caught his father in the middle of a pensive state before, but usually he’s brought back to awareness as soon as he calls. He’s never found him in this unresponsive trance. At most his father probably would’ve shouted in surprise like anyone else, but the thought of getting any closer just filled him with apprehension. He doesn’t like being unable to read people and his father’s moods are a bit hard to grasp on a good day. No matter the cause, adrenaline is still plucking a fine tremor in his nervous system so he takes a moment to breathe before his heart starts palpitating. It’s regretful he can’t get into the kitchen right now, because a cup of tea definitely would’ve been nice. 

 _‘You’re overreacting_ _, pull it together._ _’_ Nothing even happened, so he has no reason to be like this. _‘You’re_ _fine.’_ He holds in a deep breath, and releases a shuttering sigh. 

He’s fine. 

He stands on unsteady feet and tries to focus on distracting himself. As he looks through the gift bag again, he’s pleasantly surprised to note that Kise actually bought a rather high quality brand despite his limited knowledge of tea. He’s already starting to think of a return gift, and while nothing specific comes to mind, he’s certain Kise would adore something handmade. His best skills are calligraphy and quilting, but it’s fortunate he’s skilled with handicrafts in general, so he should be able to make something practical. He quietly resolves to look online for ideas later, but for now he has homework to do. 

 

* * *

 

He spends about four hours in his self-imposed isolation. He has his headphones on and is reviewing his answers to some assigned questions when he’s certain he’s smelling food. It’s a thick, savoury smell that's been slowly slipping into his room until he can no longer deny that his father has to be cooking, so it should be safe to eave his room. He can picture it now, his father sweeping around the kitchen clad in that same baby blue bunny apron. Normal. 

He stands from his desk and walks towards his door cautiously, he feels the knob warm in his grasp as he stands there indecisively. The sound of something clanging – a pot or a pan, it’s unimportant – is the final push that allows him to turn it. He opens the door with a quiet creek, creeps down the hallway that’s once again flooded with the smell of soup. There is light spilling out of the kitchen this time so he enters far less timidly, and just as he pictured, his father is moving with a frantic energy. His hair is held back by a red bandana and his eyes are tired, but they're present and bright. He spots Nigou sitting under the table, but he must have previously been dozing there because he simply raises his head in brief interest before resting them back on his paws.  

“Hello Father.” He takes a seat at the table, but he’s a little mystified when he still receives no answer. His father just continues chopping scallions into smaller bits, the sound of blade against cutting board and the crunch of onion is all the noise his father makes in response. Rather than apprehension he feels annoyance this time. “ _Father._ ” He says almost sternly. 

The reaction is immediate. The man jerks violently in shock, the knife flying out of his hand sends bits of vegetable rolling along the kitchen floor, and the knife itself hits the ground with a jarringly loud clatter; though it’s preferable to his father’s foot being impaled, as it had so narrowly avoided. His father whirls around to face him and it looks like he lost a few years from his lifespan as he clutches his heaving chest. “ _Shit,_ ” He puffs out.  

While he catches his breath, Tetsuya himself works on calming down as well. He hadn’t been expecting such a drastic reaction, but it also isn’t the first time he’s startled his father this badly. 

“Excuse my language, but _shit_ …” His father repeats, closing his eyes and leaning back on the counter. “When did you get home?” 

“A few hours ago. I said hello, but you were a bit busy, so I just went to my room.” He idly wonders how long it would take for his father to report him missing if he just didn’t come home one day. _If_ he would notice he didn’t come home one day.  

He barely catches Nigou sneaking towards a piece of food, and manages to snatch the morsel before he has a chance to eat it. He has no clue if dogs can eat onions and he’s fairly sure Nigou himself doesn’t either, but unlike him, Tetsuya would rather not find out through trial and error. 

“Oh…sorry about that.” His father mutters as he crouches down to help clean up. It’s unclear which incident he’s apologizing for.  

After a quick scan Tetsuya feels confident that between the two of them, they’ve cleaned up all of the mess, but he keeps a grip on the dog just to be sure he doesn’t find any for himself. His father groans as he stands back up, now towering over Tetsuya, who keeps his fingers tangled in fur as he stays seated on the kitchen floor, leaning back on a table leg. “Um. Sung-Hwang and Tae-Yeon stopped by maybe two hours ago. Mi-Suk is unwell, so they didn’t stay long, but they dropped off a pot of Tteokguk and a bottle of rum.” His father even waves a hand towards the simmering soup, but he’s still stuck on Mi-Suk’s condition. 

“Is Mi-Suk-san going to be alright?” His fingers dig deeper into Nigou’s thick coat, but he’s still mindful of his strength. 

“Oh yeah, they said it’s just a cold, nothing to worry about kid.” His father resumes cooking, picking up where he left off with the onions after washing the knife.  

These things always starts as _‘J_ _ust a cold_ _.’_ But perhaps he’s just worrying too much, just projecting his experiences, fears, and regrets onto Mi-Suk and her family. It likely _is_ just a common cold, and Mi-Suk probably will bounce back despite her age. 

Or she’ll die. 

Either way, he is powerless to change her fate, so perhaps his father’s flippant attitude isn’t so misplaced. 

“Y’know,” His father’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “Tae-Yeon was disappointed when I said you weren’t home. I think she had something she wanted to give to you today.” He has a suggestive lilt to his voice though Tetsuya is unsure of what conclusion his father is trying to lead him to. Tae-Yeon is nice, but they really don’t talk much even when they’re alone. 

“It’s probably my copy of _No Longer Human_ _,_ I lent it to her a month ago. I asked for her opinion of it when she returned the book, so she was probably hoping to discuss it.” He explains.  

“…Mhm.” His father hums in disbelief, pouring some of the batter of whatever type of jeon he’s making into a pan. Tetsuya doesn’t see the point in pursuing this topic any further when his father has clearly up made his mind about it. So he just doesn’t respond and things go silent. The air between them feels uncomfortable, and even the sizzle of the pancake and the bubbling of soup sounds rather stagnant, like white noise on loop. His father clears his throat. 

Nigou settles back down onto his side with a muted thump, resigning to the loss of potential scraps. Tetsuya begins to absently stroke his back. 

His father breaks the silence. “So…Um, receive any confessions today?” 

He can’t help but sigh to himself at the new choice of conversation. “No, but I received some gifts from a few friends.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad. And your team even won that big tournament too …athletes are usually fairly popular.” 

“I prefer it this way.” 

“Ah.” 

...It’s awkward again. He should say something. 

“…I thought you were going into the office today.” He says lightly. He keeps his eyes trained on Nigou, the way his fur tangles between his fingers, its contrast of black against white. 

“Hn. I was planning on it but...I changed my mind at the last moment this morning. I’m still on leave so they weren’t expecting me anyways.” So if he chooses to read between the lines, yesterday his father decided to work for the sake of not being home. He doesn’t feel hurt by this hypothesis, but rather a humorous sort of kinship if he substitutes an office for a basketball court. He’s more curious as to what changed his father’s mind. By the time he usually gets up for work, both he and his mother are already long gone, so she couldn’t have said anything to him. And how long had he been sitting there?  

“Did something happen?”  

His father sighs, and Tetsuya listens the scrape of cooking utensil against pan. “…I just…got tired. I spent the day resting though, so don’t worry I’m fine.” Tetsuya knows very well that what constitutes as _‘fine’_ can vary greatly, but he also knows that voicing any concerns will yield nothing so he doesn’t inquire any further. 

It goes quiet again. 

Nigou yawns, limbs trembling as he stretches before going limp. 

…Well. It feels like they’ve met the day’s quota in terms of idle conversation. It hasn’t been too long, but he’s already starting to feel sore from sitting on the hard floor without any sort of cushion. Nigou hardly stirs as he separates himself and staggers to his tingling feet. He’s about to walk through the doorway when his father calls after him. “Oh, wait.” Tetsuya does as he’s asked and watches as his father sets down the spatula to reach into the fridge. He’s quick to retrieve what he’s looking for, and once he shuts the door Tetsuya is able to see the small plate of strawberries he’s holding. “For Halmeoni.” 

Oh. 

His feet have stopped tingling but he can’t feel his legs as he walks over to accept the plate. “Thank you.” He murmurs before calmly fleeing the kitchen. 

It’s ice cold in his hands.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did not progress as far as I thought I would this chapter, story-wise at least, but I did say this is going to be a long read even ignoring my slow updates. I know I say it every chapter, but there are always new readers to thank so just know that I'm super grateful for your support, even if you don't comment or Kudos. 
> 
> Idk what happened but this story really took off last chapter, and it really helped me. This was supposed to be done in October believe it or not, but I suddenly felt discouraged from writing and ended up not doing much for a few weeks. I even (not seriously) contemplated deleting this story a couple times, but re-reading all of your kind words helped me get back into it. So I really owe you guys one, and appreciate all levels of support. 
> 
> There's some extra info on some chapters on my [Tumblr](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/) sorry if there are errors, I wanted to get this stuff posted before I get my wisdom teeth removed, wish me luck ;-; [Some author's notes on chapter 10!](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/post/168355637926/about-chapter-10)


	11. Ethylene Glycol Poisoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"[Central Nervous System] depression begins soon after exposure, lasting for up to 12 hours after ingestion. This depression appears similar to ethanol intoxication, but without the characteristic odor of alcohol. Initially, the inebriation, euphoria, slurred speech, sleepiness, and so forth are due to the unmetabolized ethylene glycol._
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>  _After the glycoaldehyde forms (at 4-12 hours) and metabolic acidosis begins, CNS depression—if it is a serious intoxication—can lead to the following effects: seizures, coma, cerebral edema (in some cases), gastrointestinal irritation (nausea and vomiting)"_ ([Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease Registry](https://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/csem/csem.asp?csem=12&po=9))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. 
> 
> It's been months yeah? Sorry about that. I've been trying to keep posting stuff so you'd know I'm still around but I've been super intimidated about writing this fic. You've all been _very_ kind to me and so so patient about the slowing updates, but the sheer number of you reading has started to overwhelm me. Not that I want you guys to leave lol, It's just made me very anxious about doing a good job. I read other amazing fics with vaguely similar themes and I get worried that people will think that I've copied them, even if my story is older. I start thinking _'Why bother when this person has done such a good job of it'_ and I know that's not how writing works, but anxiety can't always be reasoned with. 
> 
> And right when I start to settle with the idea of just leaving this to collect dust, everytime someone pops up with something so nice to say or they ask when an update is coming. And while I answer these people I always feel that passion I have for this story reigniting. If you're reading this, thank you for not giving up on this story <3 
> 
> Warning: Underage drinking

It’s not a big altar. Her shrine takes up a single shelf on a large bookcase that sits in the living room. With the exception of the bottom two, the rest of the shelves are full of old general books. Sheet music, photo albums, nature magazines, art tutorials, a number of miscellaneous tomes that they've collected over the years. Her ashes rest on a shelf that’s about chest-level; an old framed photo of her has been placed next to her urn, and her old sewing kit still sits there as well, though it’s been moved over to make room for other offerings and memorabilia. While not necessarily the most conventional place, it seemed like the one she would appreciate the most. Surrounded by art, written word and visual, even in death. 

Tetsuya hasn't spent much time here. 

Halmeoni is never far from his mind and her absence is sorely felt, but he takes no comfort in looking at her remains. To see a living, breathing person who was such an integral part of his life reduced to dust and abstract concepts is...upsetting. Whether or not she can hear his prayers, he will never get a response. All he has are memories that will grow hazy with time, and while it's impossible to forget her, he fears she will fade from the vibrant person she was to a vague impression. Perhaps avoiding a shrine dedicated to preserving her memory is rather counter-productive, but he prefers to remember her spirit in the vessel of flesh over porcelain vase. 

 _Hercoldhardskin_ _-_  

The urn is definitely a beautiful piece, but an ominous aura emanates from it. It’s a glossy black broken up by lightning-like veins of gold gluing it together. Wrapped around the widest circumference of the urn is an ouroboros – a white serpent devouring its own tail. 

It makes him wonder how long she had been thinking about dying.

It's not the type of thing that can be made overnight. Has it been sitting in her closet for years just waiting to be filled? Or perhaps his mother had been holding onto the design, and had it produced as soon as she passed. To be fair, it wouldn't have been unreasonable or particularly concerning of her. People often make these kinds of plans when they have children, or when they`re simply getting old. It`s more than likely she put most of her affairs in order after the stroke, but he still finds it unnerving to think that she had been ready to die at any moment ever since. 

He supposes accepting one's mortality is just a part of aging. 

Previous offerings are still sitting on the shelf, the last plate of strawberries his father left are now spoiled, and the chocolate cupcake Shige had left is no doubt stale. He removes both and temporarily places them on a lower shelf to make room for the fresh fruit, and using the pack of matches sitting next to the incense holder, he lights the stick. He gently wafts the smoke from his face before clapping twice and bowing his head in prayer. 

 _'Good evening_ _Halmeoni_ _, and happy Seollal.  I apologize for such sparse visitation, but...It's been hard without you. I miss you very much. I'm doing alright though; many people have been very supportive. I'll continue to do my best._ _’_ Tetsuya pauses, and considers leaving things there, but he is struck by a familiar urge to confide in her. 

 _'...Mother and Father have been staying home to compensate for your absence lately, but I am not sure if I`m very thankful for that. That's probably ungrateful, since they've been trying to spend more time with me, but I find that it's not quite enjoyable...things are tense. I wish you were still here to talk to them. And I'm worried about Father...No. Perhaps it's best you disregard what I've said, there's nothing you can do now but worry. I hope the afterlife has been good to you. When we meet again, I`m sure I`ll have much to tell you. I love you_ _Halmeoni_ _, until next time.'_  

Finished with his prayer, he opens his eyes and studies her picture one last time. It's one of the photos taken for her feature in _PRISM_ Magazine, wearing her favourite hanbok. Her hands are hidden in the dark blue sleeves of her jeogori and the details on the bottom of her white chima are hidden beneath her as she kneels. He's seen that skirt many times, still remembers the stiff but almost silky texture of the fabric and the little blue snowflakes patterned along the bottom hems. The winter theme was definitely out of season since the article issue was released in the spring, but she was known for doing as she pleased. It's nice. Her white hair is tied back into a low-ponytail and her eyes are warm as she stares into the camera. As his eyes wander around the shelf he notices another photo lying flat on the surface, which he picks up to examine. 

 It's an old photograph he's never seen before. The grayscale used in lieu of colour belies just how long ago this moment was captured. The top left corner is discoloured by water damage and the right side of the photo is neatly torn, but otherwise it's in fine condition. He has no idea where or when the picture was taken, and it's hard to distinguish any details with the grainy quality. Halmeoni looks fairly young, smiling and holding onto her floppy sunhat with her free arm as the wind throws her dark hair and billowing dress to the left. On her right, she's clutching someone by the arm but whoever they are, they were cropped out of the picture with the exception of the disembodied limb which overlaps with part of Halmeoni's image. This picture must have belonged to her, but it's hard for him to imagine his grandmother tearing a photo, and keeping the part with only herself. Odd. 

 A few other speculations run through his mind; the identity of the mysterious person – maybe even people - and what happened to the other half of the picture. Yet in the end, he decides its hardly worth all of this contemplation. It's just an old photo. 

He picks up the spoiled offerings and returns to the kitchen to throw them away. His father is still cooking, and in the time it took for him to pay his respects, he's finished frying the jeon. Whether or not it's because his father hasn't noticed his return, Tetsuya is glad his father refrains from continuing his interrogation.

His father doesn't startle at the sound of running water, so he must have been spotted earlier. He pours the green dish soap on his hands, definitely wasteful, but he can't bring himself to care when the fruity fragrant starts to fog his mind. 

The water gushes from the pipe, rushing down the drain, sounding like static in Tetsuya's ears. 

Cold. Unnaturally cold. Odd textured and stiff as wax. Melted, burned to ash. 

 

He is  d i s t a n t . 

 

Dissonant with his own harmony. Clashing gears, cross-eyed as he reflects on the past, tries his best to stay present and avoids envisioning the future. Tetsuya feels many things in this moment, which culminates to nothing at all, like all of the colour in a rainbow bleeding together into a muddled mess. 

He hand washes the few dishes uninterrupted. 

He leaves the plates to dry in a dish rack and towels his hands free of water. Before he leaves the kitchen to return to his bedroom, Tetsuya asks, "When should I return for dinner?" 

"In about an hour. I'll come get you." 

"Will mother be joining us?" 

"Much later. She said to put something aside for her." 

"I see...thank you." 

"No problem." 

No problem. 

Tetsuya retreats to his room. 

 _I Am A Cat_ still lies on his desk where he left it, but now he has no appetite for reading. He lowers himself onto his bed, slowly, as if he’s years older than his youthful face reveals. He tucks his legs up by his chest and just lays there curled up on himself to stave away the cold. He hardly remembers to blink as he let’s time wash over him. His mind is blank as he watches the sinking sun vanish from his bedroom window. Eyes idly tracking dust motes as they dizzily descend; spinning, swimming through the orange glow before they vanish out of the light. Night falls as quickly as the closing curtains of a show and without the dancing dust motes to watch, he's left sitting in the dark. He can't think. Where thoughts were once bouncing around in his skull, they now vanish like a raindrop in the ocean. 

So full of nothing that he is rendered immobile. 

Drowsiness is a fog that begins to cloud his senses. Just as he shuts his half-lidded eyes a knock on his door brings him back to awareness. "Tetsuya? Dinner is ready." 

Despite gravity working against him, he draws in a heavy breath and heaves himself somewhat upright. "Thank you." The words breeze out as half speech, half sigh. He takes his time sitting up, almost groaning as he rises to his feet. He opens his door to see an empty hallway, and Tetsuya contemplates returning to bed with the belief that it had been his imagination, but the promised amount of time has elapsed. Besides, the sounds had been too vivid for mere mind tricks.  

Any lingering doubts are banished by the sight of the table fully set, his father putting down the last dish, a bowl of  stir-fried rice cakes. The table is laden with a variety of foods, and even if everything isn't made from scratch he's still impressed with his father's ability to cook. He can't remember the last time he's tasted his parents' cooking prior to Halmeoni's passing. His father was never home to try, and he can only picture his mother having enough energy to microwave something after a long day at work.  

There's a bottle of sake set at the table as well, and Tetsuya can't help but eye it a bit apprehensively when there aren’t people to divide it amongst. To his father's credit it doesn't look like an overly large bottle, but it could still be generously shared between two people. While sake is best enjoyed the day it's opened, he hopes his father doesn't intend to drink all of it tonight. 

He waits for his father to be seated before choosing the chair across from him. They're both stiff, eyeing each other warily. 

His father clears his throat. "Um. I know tonight is...a lot different than what we're used to with half of the table absent," He pauses to give their empty spots a quick glance. "But...We don't spend much time together. Let's make the best of it." His father flashes him a quick smile, his lips curling and falling flat like a sheet catching a slight breeze. 

Tetsuya nods in agreement and they say their thanks before partaking in the small feast. 

This is definitely odd. Not exactly as unpleasant as he would have guessed in the past, but he's used to eating with his grandmother, and sometimes his mother joining them. Even when he was home, his father generally kept to himself and their conversations were usually fairly brief. These last few days have been completely foreign. 

Perhaps losing Halmeoni made his father realize how much he cares.  

They both start off with a bowl of tteokguk.  

Though it's a touch saltier than what he’s accustomed to, and she seems to have added more rice cakes than Halmeoni would, Mi-Suk is definitely a skilled cook. It still tastes like home and love and brings memories of New Year’s past. Things are quiet. On a night like this, the radio would be playing softly, filling in all the gaps between them with ambient noise to make things feel at ease. But he gets the sense that if he tried such a thing right now it would only make the table feel larger, echo in the near empty room like a lone performer singing on stage without an audience. 

Tetsuya fully expected this to be a brief and silent meal, but his father surprises him again. 

"Did Halmeoni ever explain some of the symbolism behind tteokguk?" 

Tetsuya pauses to think. It's said that one gains a year of age after consuming their first bowl, but his father probably would've said the _importance_ of it rather than symbolism if that was the answer. "...I don't think so." 

He watches as his father stirs his bowl, sloshing around the translucent off-white broth. "It's about prosperity and rebirth." 

Quite befitting a dish used to usher in the new year. 

His father fishes out a single rice cake with his spoon, careful to keep it over his bowl in case it drips. "When you stretch out the garaetteok dough, it's supposed to represent lengthening one's fortune. Then it's sliced into these coin-like pieces for wealth." His father eats the spoonful and washes it down with his first sip of sake before continuing. "I can't remember the story behind it, but it's also said that eating white things on New Year's allows you to start the year with a mind of purity."  

"Interesting." It seems that Mi-Suk is still sending positive energy. He'll have to call to send his thanks along with well wishes towards her recovery. He's tempted to leave things at that but if his father really is putting in the effort to connect, he should a least try to meet him half way there. "Did Halmeoni teach you that?" 

His father's face closes off into a more familiar expression, that same cool detachment from the funeral. "No. Just something I picked up at work." Tetsuya watches as he takes a longer sip, emptying the stemless wine glass before refilling it near the top.  

It's seems that he's touched upon a sensitive subject, though he's not quite sure what he's prodded at.  

After a moment's hesitation Tetsuya attempts to keep things moving. "Did you see anything interesting in...where was it again?" 

"Kazan." 

"Kazan? What were you supposed to do?" 

"A number of things, but the main focus was the Kremlin." He mumbles before tacking on, "Probably not the Kremlin you're thinking of, that's in Moscow." 

"Oh. I wasn't aware there's more than one." 

"There's twelve." 

"Oh." 

Silence. 

It feels like that conversation drew to a premature close, but with neither of them very forthcoming with detailed information it's the natural progression. However, the uncomfortable air has been dissipated by now so it doesn’t feel wrong to just focus on the meal now. 

They eat with nothing but their own thoughts for company and by the time Tetsuya has sampled every dish, there’s only about a third of the sake left. His father didn't eat much, he mostly picked at his food between sips and idle observations of mundane things like the taste of the food. He's leaning on the table in a much more relaxed posture than earlier, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded, but still mostly clear and alert. 

"Are you finished eating?" He asks, eyeing the food Tetsuya hasn’t touched in a while. 

He nods as he says, “Yes, thank you for the meal.” 

They both rise to their feet and while Tetsuya himself experiences a minor head rush, his father wavers like a reed in the wind before finding his balance. They work together to get everything cleaned up and while his father occasionally teeters, his faculties seem to be fully functioning. Once the dishes are loaded into the dishwasher and the food packed away, their purposeful momentum grinds to a halt. It's getting late, but there's still quite a bit of time before midnight. In previous years, after dinner they would do any variety of activities from playing a board game to just independent activities within close proximity wiith quiet chatter. It seems wrong to excuse himself to hide in his room again, but there’s only so many things just two people can do and even less when one is slightly inebriated. 

Just as he’s about to mention something about school work, his father says, “I’ll make us something warm to drink. Do you want hot chocolate?” 

He considers declining but he’s quick to remember that he was the one who was so insistent on spending tonight together. So he sets his reservations aside and says, “Yes please.” 

His father smiles, it’s small, but undeniably there. “Just go wait in the living room, I’ll bring it out.” 

Doing as he’s told, Tetsuya leaves to kitchen and finds a seat on one of the new couches. Cold and stiff as expected, but not to the point of uncomfortable. Nigou lays curled up in his bed, barely stirring as he turns on the television. The current station is broadcasting a wildlife documentary about the dusty plains of the African savannah, and Tetsuya is content to watch it air. 

His father walks into the room with three drinks in hand. The rest of his sake, a bottle or rum, and a mug of hot chocolate which he hands off to Tetsuya. “Here.” 

“Thank you.” Murmurs Tetsuya. 

His father sets down the bottle of rum on the glass table between them with a quiet _clink_ _,_ and keeps his sake in hand before he takes a seat on the couch adjacent to his. Judging by the change in cups, his father probably warmed his own drink as well. For a moment, the only sound to be heard is the snorting of wildebeest and the plodding of their hooves as the heard marches along. 

The mug is a soothing heat in his cold hands. He takes a small sip and the rich taste is sweet on his tongue. 

His father clears his throat, drawing his attention away from the screen. “I forgot to ask earlier, but how do you like your gift?” 

Tetsuya blinks is surprise. “I like it very much. Did Halmeoni help you?” 

Genuine merriment twinkles in his father’s eyes, his smile pulling a little wider. “I’m really glad. I actually found it myself. We were- were walking around in this local shopping area and there were a lot of artesian shops. Things like non-franchised clothing stores and hand-made jewelry, right? And Matvey – guy we met, at the hotel – pointed out this craft shop. Matvey, by the way, is a very nice man. We were having a bit of trouble talking with one of the receptionists – beautiful hotel by the way, we took photos of it as well – and he was able to help translate.” When his father pauses to take a drink, Tetsuya is pulled out of a spell. 

His father used to read him to sleep when he was younger. Its odd hearing him ramble for so long, fleshing out his answer with all of these little anecdotes, when he’s normally quite concise. He’s forgotten how soothing his father’s voice can be, deep an melodic when he gets into a tale.  

Cup still loosely held in hand, he continues, “So, the…the craft shop. It’s a really nice place, has this pine smell and you can hear someone working with a saw or some kind of power tool in the back. Lots of little figurines and a few larger carvings, all very impressive. Y’know, life-sized wooden bear on its hind legs, all that. There’s this bookcase against a wall just full of rows of different matryoshka, traditional ones, past tzars, all kinds. And then I see…I saw that one. 

“I haven’t spent much time with the dog, Nigou, but it reminded me of him. And you. So I thought you would like it…and you do. I’m glad you do, because I felt really bad for missing your birthday.”  

“It’s alright, I understand you have to work.” Tetsuya avoids his gaze by taking a deep drink from his cup. 

His father frowns, leans forward with intent. “No, really. I _know_ how disappointing that shit is, and I’m sorry...’scuse the language. I- I’ll…make it up to you, I promise.” 

Tetsuya shifts in his seat. “That’s really not ne-” 

“No, I insist. I- we’ll- I’ll come to one of your basketball games, when’s the next one?” 

Tetsuya sighs, lowering his mug to his lap. “The season is over. It’s fine.” 

His father seems to think about something before he finally deflates in resignation. "I'll...We'll do something together, I _promise_." He repeats firmly. 

Tetsuya's begining to see the futlity of arguing with him while he's in this state, so he simply agrees to appease him. "Alright, I look forward to it." He will not be holding his breath though. 

His father nods in satisfaction.  

Tetsuya turns his attention back to the television, where elephants have taken to dust baths, using their trunks to sling cooling mud and dirt on their wrinkled skin. A baby elephant clumsily swings it trunk in an attempt to emulate its elders, appearing more playful than purposeful in its motions. As the narrator describes the mechanisms of their matriarchal herds, he hears the seal on the rum bottle squeal before it snaps open as his father unscrews the cap. 

"Tetsuya." Reluctantly, he turns back to his father. "Have you had your first drink yet?" 

Shock runs through him at the sudden inquiry.  "No, I'm still underage." There's no way his father is offering this. 

"I'm surprised. Really? You know it's not that hard for high schoolers to get some." He watches as he pours the rum into his presumably empty sake cup. 

"Well, I have never had any desire, and as athletes we usually abstain from such habits." He drinks more hot chocolate to sooth his fluttering nerves. 

"Well..how about we make a New Year's toast? It's a good bonding moment...to have your first drink with your dad." 

Tetsuya shifts in his seat, eyes darting between his father and the television as he tries to think. "I...really don't think mother would be okay with that." 

“Well as your father, I say its okay. You’re almost an adult now anyways-” 

“I’m only sixteen.”  

"And I was thirteen. Just a bit won't hurt you." He tries to think of another excuse, but his father still walks around the table with the bottle in hand. He stops just before him and kneels down so that they’re eye-to-eye, the moving blues and golds of the African horizon paint writhing shadows on his father's face. 

“Do you trust me?” 

The words echo in his mind like the cocking of a gun. 

It's unclear who’s temple the barrel kisses. 

 “…Yes.” 

His father nods with reassurance in his eyes. “Then please share this moment with me. Were safe at home, and I promise things won’t get out a hand.” 

His mouth feels dry. The scent of alcohol, heady on his father’s breath, wafts into his face as if to further him into temptation. 

“Jus’ a bit won’t hurt, and your mother will never know." 

Tetsuya tries to remember this moment. The comfortable feeling of restraint before he lets go of the safety rope. The hyper-awareness of how steady his feet are beneath him, before he leans back into a trust fall, and he’s stuck in that terrifying span of time between the catch or the crash. 

He searches for something, anything familiar and secure in his father's bright blue eyes...   

“Okay.” 

His father smiles at his answer, wider than anything he can recall, and Tetsuya feels like he chose correctly. 

“Okay.” His father echoes warmly. 

Tetsuya is offered the sake cup, filled to the top with rum that looks as pitch black as ink in the low light. He takes it with a weak grip compared to the tight hold he has on his mug. He can feel the weight of his father's expectations pressing down on him despite the rather cheery expression still molded on his face. 

"...drink it right now?" He asks quietly. 

"Just a little pre-drinking. Just a little taste of it straight. Trust me, it'll make anything else I make taste better." His father sounds so sure of himself, so unusually jolly and playful that Tetsuya decided to take his word for it just to keep the mood high. He holds it under his nose to get a whiff of it first, and the pungent smell of alcohol wrinkles his nose before he can help it. Yet underneath that strong odor is a sweeter smell, surprisingly pleasant and soon its more prominent scent he can detect. He hopes it's a sign that this liquid isn't as awful as he believes. 

He looks at his father one last time - still lively and staring right back with clear anticipation - before taking the plunge. 

It's _foul_. 

He has never known regret so immediately after an action. 

He had tried to gulp it all down in one mouthful like he had seen his father do countless times, but the moment it touched his tongue, wet his mouth, an agonizing burn lit up his nerves. Every crack in his lips stings as if he were sanitizing an open wound, and a taste quite similar to the smell of nail polish remover is stuck on his taste buds. He hastily spits the liquid back into the cup and licks his lips with more vigour than a starving dog staring at a steak to rid himself of the sensations, uncaring of the fact that some of it spills over his hand and his hot chocolate threatens to do the same. 

His father is laughing at his misfortune, losing too much balance to remain upright in his kneel and almost falls over in his mirth before clumsily catching himself. A righteous anger builds in his chest at the realization that his father knew this would happen. As angry as he feels, he can't voice his indignation before he starts coughing as the sensations persist a little longer, though thankfully with less intensity. Tetsuya sets the cup on the coffee table with a loud _clank_ before taking large gulps of his hot chocolate, which is blessedly soothing. 

He's still nose-deep in his mug when his father finally recovers from his fit.  "I'm sorry, I didn't think you'd react that badly." 

Tetsuya lowers his drink to openly frown, but his father is still smiling as if the joke had gone over well. 

"I-I'm sorry okay Kiddo? Kid? I'm really sorry." He has the decency to look stone-faced and sincere this time, but Tetsuya can still see the laughter in his hazy eyes and hear the almost mocking undertone. 

This was a mistake. 

"I'm going to bed." Just as Tetsuya rises from his seat, his father grabs onto his wrist with an almost uncomfortably tight grip. 

This time his father looks properly contrite, a near desperate sheen in his eyes as he pleads in a somber tone. "Wait. I apologize, I shouldn't have done that. Tonight is supposed to be fun, so please give me one more chance." 

Tetsuya's stomach churns with anxiety and indecision. 

It...really wasn't _that_ bad. 

He's pulled similar ticks with spicy foods, and he's fallen victim to it himself on other occasions. While it was rather unkind not to warn him, he really should've known better than to try and match a seasoned drinker. If he had taken a sip as was probably expected, it wouldn't have gone this badly. Tetsuya sits back down and his father releases his grip. 

"Thank you. I'll mix it with something, you won't even taste it, I promise." His father stands from his crouch and starts heading back towards the kitchen, bottle in hand. "You like cola? It goes good with rum. I think we have a can somewhere..." 

"I don't like carbonated drinks." Tetsuya gently reminds him. 

His father pauses in his steps. "Oh. Right. Sorry." He seems to think for a moment before walking back towards him. "Can I borrow your hot chocolate?" It's clear what he plans on doing, but Tetsuya hands it over regardless. 

As predicted, his father pours alcohol into his mug, but it’s a lot more than just a splash. He looks into the cup as soon as it's given back, and what was once half empty is now filled up about two-thirds. He stares at it was renewed apprehension. 

"It'll taste better this time." Says his father. 

 _'It can't be worse than what I just tasted.'_ He thinks before taking a cautious sip. 

It's...strange. 

It is by far more palatable than the first attempt but he can still taste the alcohol underneath the hot chocolate. It's drinkable though, so he has another taste. 

"Better?" 

"Better." Tetsuya agrees. 

He's hardly had more than a few sips and already Tetsuya feels a heat permeating through his chest. It’s a bone deep glowing warmth that's more potent than the heat he absorbed from the temperature of the drink itself. He feels his cheeks flush, but so far no other side-effects. 

His father finally returns to his seat, and now without a cup he takes a swig straight from the bottle. Tetsuya watches with something akin to concern and respect as he drinks it with leisure, not a single grimace of displeasure as it does down with ease. His father seems to sense his shock. "When you drink enough, it all starts to taste like water." He explains with a shrug. 

Tetsuya chooses to watch the television. 

It seems he's missed quite a bit of the program, the screen now focused on a pride of lions tearing into a zebra. Blood smeared on their maws, claws swiping at one another for the choice pounds of flesh. The narrator goes on to explain how the carcass wont nearly be enough to fill the pride, and how it's only a matter of time before the lionesses and cubs are chased away by the bigger males. 

He becomes so immersed in the program, that it's too easy to forget the hot chocolate was spiked. 

He mindlessly gulps down mouthful after mouthful as that burning aftertaste starts to fade away with his worries about such a taboo activity. It isn't until his limbs feel weighted, his head feels heavy on his shoulders that he realizes just how much he's consumed. Oh dear. He debates telling his father, wondering if this is normal or if they should do something, when both of their heads snap towards the direction of the front door. 

"I'm home!" 

 _Oh dear._  

"Welcome back." He and his father chorus. 

His father swiftly stashes the bottle bellow the coffee table, well-hidden from her natural line of sight should she walk towards them. His father then turns to him with his usual stony expression, the silly man of just moment ago completely evaporated. His voice is low and urgent as he glances between him and the hall. "How you feeling?" 

Other than a little wobbly in his seat, he feels alright. "I...f-fine." His tongue tangles in his mouth, almost tripping on the simple word.  

His father appears to curse under his breath for some reason. "Be cool alright? Just watch TV and let me handle this. If she sits down, just go to sleep." He instructs. 

But what if he misses midnight? 

Before he can voice his concerns his mother walks into the room, eyes automatically giving a cursory scan of their set up. Her eyes lock onto the sake cup that sits conspicuously close to his side of the coffee table. He brings his mug to his lips in hopes of convincing her that he hasn't even touched it. 

She sighs, brushing invisible dust from her black pencil skirt, silk red shirt still neatly tucked in. "Tsukiyo, you're making a mess. Please use a coaster, and make sure you clean up that spill." She says, gesturing to the cup. "You boys having fun?" 

His father looks completely normal, sitting straight-backed against the couch and his face totally placid. "Oh yeah, I was just telling him about Kazan." 

She crosses her arms and quirks a brow with what he hopes is amusement rather than doubt. "It looks like you're putting him to sleep." And with both of his parents looking at him, Tetsuya realizes that he's been dazedly watching them with half-lidded eyes, bowling ball head lolled on his shoulder. 

He blinks himself out of his stupor and tries to mimic his father's posture. Feet planted firmly, sitting upright and face carefully blank. "I...I am fine." He clears his throat. "Hello mother." 

Strangely, he feels nothing as she frowns in his direction. "If you're tired you should go to bed. It is a school night Tetsuya."  

"He'll be alright." His father cuts in, drawing her attention back to him. "We're having a good time together, don't worry about us. The food is in the fridge." 

She gives them both one last skeptical look-over, her eyes lingering on him before she nods to herself and turns away. "I'll trust you two to take care of yourselves, but don't let things get out of hand." She warns, and before leaving she wishes them a happy New Year's. "Saehae Bok Mani Badeuseyo." 

They spend a few minutes listening to her move around in the kitchen, quiet clinks and beeps as she servers herself and reheats it. They hear her footsteps head elsewhere in the house, likely taking her food to her office to finish up some task before bed. After a moment of silence Tetsuya meets his father's eyes. 

It's slight at first, but a smile slowly creeps back onto his face until even Tetsuya is matching him with a full-blown grin. Overcome by a sudden wave of euphoria, he is helpless to contain the laughter that suddenly comes spilling forth. Mania is the word that comes to mind as this high fails to abate. He can't remember if he's felt this giddy before, his mood so infectious that even his father starts laughing just as hysterically.  

He can't believe they just got away with that. 

His father reclaims the bottle and raises it in a toast, a motion Tetsuya mimics with his mug before they both take a deep swill. It's not clear what they're drinking to, but if he had to guess it would be their new-found comradery. 

Reformed bonds. 

 _'Yeah, I'll drink to that.'_ He thinks as he tosses his head back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will continue from here. Sorry for any inaccuracies! I tried, but there's way too much I'm unfamiliar with to get into it as much as I would've liked to. I'm also sorry if there's a drop in quality, it's been a while.
> 
> I'll try to get back to bi-weekly updates again. [Author's notes on chapter 11!](https://berry-cat7.tumblr.com/post/173343922765/about-chapter-11)


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